


Drawn to Shelter

by redluna



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-08 11:27:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 140
Words: 78,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15929498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redluna/pseuds/redluna
Summary: A place for all the Cullen/Dorian writings, I've been prompted for (and some I wasn't).Relevant warnings attached to top of chapters, if need be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Angry Kiss

Cullen had known, somewhere in him, that it hadn’t really meant anything. Most people tended to have sex with it being for nothing more than pleasure. It was foolish to think that each person who invited you for a roll between the sheets was after your heart as well. That was the way you wound up broken and, really, no one knew that better than Cullen.

But with Dorian it had been…different. The man had been gentle beneath all that bluster, clutching to Cullen even once the act was done, as though he could still manage to slip away. And surely the mornings in which he awoke tangled up in Dorian’s arms had to mean  _something_.

Or, at least, that was what he thought until he stumbled into the library to find Dorian wearing a very telling smile as he reduced an archivist to a blushing mess.

Cullen should have have left, found something– _anything_ –else that needed doing, but his body refused to cooperate, keeping him rooted to the spot. It wasn’t until Dorian reached out to twirl a bit of the other man’s hair around his finger, of all things, that Cullen was actually spurred into movement.

“Excuse me.” He didn’t need the way the archivist startled back to tell him that he was looking more than a bit unnerving; the way his teeth grit together did that well enough. “Lord Pavus is needed elsewhere.”

“Right, of course,” the archivist squeaked. He snuck a glance at Dorian out of the corner of his eye, the hopeful smile that bloomed making Cullen’s stomach twist itself into knots. “I’ll see you…um…later then.”

“Oh, that I can guarantee… Hey!”

Cullen hadn’t let Dorian get much further than that, snagging him by the back of the collar. They managed to get a far ways through that method before Dorian dug his heels in for good and made them stop.

“Whatever was that about you great oaf?” Dorian shoved him hard in the chest, undaunted that Cullen barely shifted an inch as a result. “You scared that poor man half to death!”

Cullen snorted, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I’m sure whatever impact I made won’t be enough to keep him from crawling into your bed later.”

Dorian’s eyes flashed and the solid wham of a fist to his solar plexus would have hurt a good deal more if Cullen weren’t in such a state. “You dare…” He leaned in close, voice hissing out by such a point. “You hardly had any complaint about my tastes when they lead me to  _your_  bed.”

“Exactly!” Cullen snapped.

“My apologies–” Dorian’s lips were already twisting up into a sneer. “–was any of that supposed to make sense?”

The rumble that rose up from Cullen’s chest was more a growl than anything else before he shoved Dorian back against one of the bookcases hard enough that a few actually sprung loose. The expression on Dorian’s face promised outrage, but Cullen was on him before anything more could be said, leg sliding up between Dorian’s own as his hand tangled in the man’s hair so that he could pull the mage’s up to his own.

Cullen approached it all rather like he would have against a particularly difficult opponent on a battlefield. He refused to let Dorian draw enough focus to turn things back, catching the other man off-guard with bites followed closely by a sweep of tongue. He only drew back when the urge to breathe became truly desperate and even then he kept their foreheads pressed together, drinking in the dazed look on Dorian’s face.

“The  _only_  bed I will have you searching out is mine,” he explained, voice low and rough. “Otherwise this will be at an end.” He tugged at Dorian’s hair, enjoying the gasp it elicited. “Understand?”

“Perhaps.” Dorian ground himself down against the thigh still helpfully placed right where he needed it. “Although a bit of extra persuading never hurt.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far the only ones I won't take a stab at posting are the ones related to Set to Rise/Bakery AU. I'll hold on to those until after in case of spoilers or confusion from the content in them back when I was still only brainstorming what might make it into canon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They make me uncomfortable."

When the meeting began Dorian had found it entertaining that the Commander kept shifting around every other minute or so. Especially since he had thought that it was the certain glances he kept pitching the other man’s way that were gaining such a reaction. Yet the movements didn’t stop, even when he was forced to look away or dare push Cassandra past the point of disgusted noises and into the realm of head slapping. And, while he might not want to admit it, Dorian was concerned.

“Dorain?” To his credit, Cullen only flailed for a few seconds when Dorian seized hold of his arm to drag him back to his quarters.

The Inquisitor didn’t so much as miss a beat, although whether that was due to simply being used to such odd happenings or the blush Cassandra was currently supporting was anyone’s game.

“What on earth is wrong with you?” Dorian frowned, pressing the back of his hand to Cullen’s forehead. “You’re not hot, so I suppose you might not be coming down with something at least. But what else? Did you strain yourself again?” His eyebrows lifted. “I swear, Cullen, if there’s some injury you didn’t–”

“Dorian.” There was a definite hint of humor in Cullen’s voice now, but it wasn’t enough to make Dorian pout. Really, not at all. “It’s nothing like that. Just…uh… Well…” He took a step back, clearing his throat as he went. “It was a suggestion from…” The high rise of his cheekbones pinked. “…from many sources, but they keep making me uncomfortable.”

Dorian tried not to smirk, but it was a failed effort in the end. “And what, pray tell, have you been talked into this time?” he asked. “Was it a dare?”

“No, not…” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. “It was meant to be a gift…for you.”

“Ooh, is that so?” Dorian said. “Well don’t hold a man in suspense.”

Mind you, he wasn’t quite prepared for Cullen’s response for that to be reaching for the strings of his trousers with fumbling fingers, but far be it of him to complain. Especially when the man undid them just enough.

Unfortunately, Cullen seemed to take his lack of response in the wrong way entirely. “I knew it was foolish,” he muttered. “I’ll just…”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Dorian’s hands snapped out to grab hold of Cullen’s wrists, eyes still fixated on the view. “Is that Orlaisian lace?”

He didn’t have to look up to know that Cullen’s face had gone entirely red by this point. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. There might have been drinks involved…and Varric and Iron Bull…and perhaps the Inquisitor. I can still take them off if… Maker’s breath!”

Dorian had dropped one of his hands downwards, letting it glide along the delicate fabric of the panties until he could feel Cullen’s cock straining against them to meet his palm. “You’ll take them off, alright,” he purred, “but not until I’ve had my fill.” He leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of Cullen’s mouth, voice more ragged than he intended as he continued, “On the bed, amatus.”

Dorian almost missed the sly glint in Cullen’s eyes as he ducked his head. “Of course, ser.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you left your USB flash drive in the library computer and i had to go through your files to figure out who you are and i ended up reading the entirety of this book you’re working on and wow you’re actually really good????

For reasons he would rather not discuss, Cullen has always found comfort in breaking things into a system. Which is why he comes close to an outright panic attack in the middle of class the next day when he reaches into his bag and finds the planned spot empty.

“Cullen?” A touch from Cassandra on his arm is about the only thing that keeps him from dumping out the entirety of his bag out onto his desk. Thank the Maker that the professor hasn’t showed up yet, at least. “What’s the matter?”

“My flash drive, it’s not–” Cullen takes in the way Cassandra’s brow is pinching together and, beyond her, the soft concern in Josephine’s eyes, and takes a deep breath before continuing. “I can’t find my flash drive.”

He isn’t overly concerned about the schoolwork the drive contained; those were more backup than anything else and can be copied over again. But everything on there isn’t strictly academic. And while for most college students that would mean porn of some kind, for Cullen it refers to the novel he had been working on diligently and doing his best to keep out of anyone’s hands (yes, that includes you, Cassandra) until done.

Neither of the girls will allow him to skip class, but Josephine lets him sip on her tea while she takes the notes he’s in fit state to concentrate on. Cassandra is the one that grabs him by the collar of his shirt afterwards, making sure he keeps to an even pace while they retrace his steps with him.

It isn’t much of a surprise that they find themselves in the library, but ice slides down into Cullen’s gut when they find the lost and found basket empty.

“Someone couldn’t have just  _taken_  it,” Josephine insists. “No one could be that rude.”

Cullen is well on his way to pointing out that, yes, people actually  _can_  when someone outside of the group clears their throat and all the blood in his body rushes to his face when he realizes who it is.

Dorian Pavus is the library’s second work study student (the other being Solas, who comes into work in pajamas a surprising amount). He’s also the guy who has reduced Cullen to working in the farthest corners of the library since, if he doesn’t, he spends the time he should be working mooning over Dorian instead.

“Uh…sorry,” he stammers. “We were just… We’ll be quieter, promise.”

“What?” Dorian says. “No, that’s not what I… Hang on a moment.” And then, because somehow the universe is never through pitching Cullen into the shit hole of everything, he pulls a little bit of plastic out of his pocket. One with a lion’s head attached to the end of it.

Cullen mumbles out what he hopes is something close to a thank you before reaching out for the flash drive, only to have his heart stammer in his chest when Dorian holds it out of his reach.

“I hope you won’t be angry.” The man actually seems nervous, which makes absolutely no sense at all. “But I had to look through it to see who it belonged to.” The shy, warm smile he offers is completely at odds with the panicked lurching in Cullen’s chest. “And considering that I spent the whole night reading through your work, completely botching my sleep schedule, I think it’s only fair that you take me out for coffee.”

“I…” Cullen has to blink more than once for that all to set in. “You  _liked_  it?”

“More than a little bit, yes.” Dorian’s smile is widening into something more certain now. “I might be inclined to offer some edits, but that might require some–”

“Dinner instead of just coffee?” Cullen says.

“You read my mind.” Dorian leans in, expression turning sly as he drops the flash drive back into Cullen’s hand at long last. “Along with a description of whether that dashingly handsome research agent your soldier is falling for might have a living inspiration.”

Cullen is reduced to standing there blushing while Dorian chuckles, but he gets his own form of revenge later by being able to show in practice just  _what_  Stanton plans to do to Octavian by chapter thirty-three.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian facefucking with Cullen really loving being able to have Dorian’s cock in his mouth.

Somewhere along the line those at Skyhold began to pair off to the point that whenever a expedition party returned there would be a cluster of people there waiting for them. The Inquisitor would wind up in Josephine’s arms at some point, the other woman never complaining about the sweat or the possibility of dirt on her clothes as Trevelyan buried her face in her neck. Even Cassandra would make a few less frustrated noises than usual, the tips of her ears flaring to pink as Varric pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

Cullen could hardly ever wait to get his arms around Dorian, even spinning him around on one rather noted occasion. But that was what was shown for the public. What happened once Cullen managed to get him back to his corner was far different.

“I will have you know…” Dorian had to struggle to remember what he had been trying to say as Cullen’s hands worked their way up his thighs to push his legs apart. “Are you not even going to make use of that lovely bath Josephine had sent up?”

“Later.” Cullen tugged at the ties to Dorian’s pants, lips curving upwards even as the buckles knock against his knuckles. “Right now I want to get my mouth on you.”

“Well that’s hardly new,” Dorian said, although his breath turned shuddery around the last of it as he watched Cullen lick a stripe up his cock.

“True.” Cullen’s expression turned positively sly then. “But this time I thought you might like to be a more…active…participant.”

Any quips Dorian might have come up with for that, die on his lips when Cullen decides to take him into his mouth at last. It wasn’t a condition that lasted long, however, for the other man only got halfway before ceasing to move entirely.

“Are you quite serious?” Dorian huffed. “And here I thought you couldn’t wait to get your hands on…” The rest of his words slid away when he pushed up slightly only to have Cullen hum in response, eyes dropping close. “Ooh, so that’s what you were after, hm?” He reached out to slide his fingers through the Commander’s curls, tugging just to make the man in question let out a muffled groan. “I suppose I’ll simply half to indulge then.”

It still took a minute or so to work out the pace, but once there everything is  _glorious_. And Dorian wasn’t so lost in his own pleasure either that he didn’t notice just where Cullen’s hand had begun to stray.

“Oh, no, no.” He rolled his hips up sharply, relishing in the way Cullen struggles to lift his head enough not to be reduced to gagging. And even if the sound was somewhat stifled, Dorian could have sworn that the man actually  _whines_  when his hand is knocked away from between his legs by the toe of Dorian’s boot. “I think you can wait until I’m ready to take care of that for you, amatus.”

He should have known that Cullen would take that as a challenge, chasing after Dorian’s cock when he lets his hips settle down again and humming before administrating broad swipes once it returns to his mouth.

By the time Dorian finally managed to spend himself, Cullen swallowed down what he could rather greedily, although there’s still some left for Dorian to swipe away from his chin with the pad of a thumb. His eyes are somewhat glazed when he stares up at Dorian.

“So… Have I been good?”

“Oh, amatus.” Dorian slid his fingers underneath Cullen’s chin, tipping the man’s face up for a kiss. “Whenever aren’t you?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My parents kicked me out and you’re the only person that bothered to ask the crying, obviously lost kid with a suitcase if something was the matter AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit more pre-slash than anything, but, as the summary suggests, be on the look out for mentions of Halward's stellar parenting.

Pathetic was not a word that was ever supposed to be used to describe a member of House Pavus, but it was certainly how Dorian felt now. 

It had taken until his high school years for him to start to chafe against keeping what had already begun to become an open secret amongst the upper circles. There had been an uneasy arrangement of sorts established between his parents–so long as he kept his exploits out of the tabloids and toed the line in public his  _preferences_  went unmentioned.

At least until after the glory of graduation and the haze of the ensuing parties had faded. Then came the pamphlets full of information on camps that could “help him understand the real him”. The ensuing row had been thunderous and when the door had been flung open Dorian had strode right out of it.

He just hadn’t realized how permanent it was going to be.

“Hey, are you alright?”

Dorian tipped his head up, heart jumping into his throat almost the instant he did. Because of course  _now_  would be the moment that he managed to meet a man who looked like he strolled right out of one of his once hidden magazines. And that was even  _with_  the rumpled curls and plaid.

He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying to fight back the fresh sting of new tears. It did nothing to keep the somewhat hysterical edge out of his laugh, although, by this point, it was growing difficult to find the energy to give a damn. “Oh, yes, everything’s right as rain. Why ever would you think otherwise?”

The chuckle the man let out seemed to slip right into Dorian, sending heat down to the tips of his fingers with the rumble of it. “If that’s how you want to play it then fine.” He hooked a thumb back over his shoulder. The flickering sign almost hurt to look at with it’s neon tint, declaring itself “Skyhold”, but it did look quite cozy even from all the way over here. “Wanna discuss it more somewhere where you aren’t in danger of having the tip of your nose freeze off? The next bus won’t be along for ages anyway.”

And, well, how was Dorian supposed to turn down an offer like that?

Especially when it lead to a steady supply of hot chocolate (”On the house,” their waitress Evelyn insisted, glaring down his wallet when he tried to pull it out) and getting to find out just how adorable the man– _Cullen_ –looked when he managed to get whip cream on the tip of his nose.

He blamed the warm, lazy ache that had settled over him for why he spent the night kipped out on Cullen’s couch. Breakfast was at the same diner the next morning and when Dorian asked Cullen, “So is this where you take all your dates then?” the man’s answering blush lit up his day in a truly brilliant fashion.

It wasn’t until Cullen lead Dorian over to the somewhat battered bookstore a few buildings down and began asking the somewhat grumpy owner about a job opening that Dorian dug his heels in.

“I’m not a helpless stray, you know.” He crossed his arms over his chest when Cullen turned to look at him over his shoulder. “I’m perfectly capable of cutting it on my own.”

“And I’m not saying you can’t.” Cullen’s hand was board, radiating heat even through the layers of Dorian’s clothes as he squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “Just that you  _don’t_  have to.” There was a sly quirk to his lips for a moment. “And, besides, you’re certainly the  _prettiest_  stray I’ve ever picked up.”

He turned his back on Dorian’s splutters, chuckling good-naturedly when he was whammed in the back with a fist.

Maybe, just maybe, Dorian could find a way to make this work. It’d be worth it for the free food from the diner at the very least.

…And perhaps a too good for his own good idiot’s rather impressive behind, but such things were best kept to the privacy of one’s own mind. At least for now. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian has never been the best at facing his shortcomings. Even more so when they impact those that matter most to him.

“A boy needs his father.”

The words were soft, barely above a whisper, but they still caused Dorian to freeze, his shoulders bunching up beneath flimsy fabric. Cullen watched the man’s fingers curl in towards his palm then drop down limply again. “Well you already have that covered, don’t you? I hear that Infants have quite the appeal to some anyhow, so surely you’ll be able to find someone to play mother to that little one soon–”

“Octavian.” Because there was no way Cullen was going to let this rest without a fight. “ _You_ named him Octavian.”

He rather graciously pretended not to notice just how damp sounding Dorian’s answering chuckle was. “Only because that’s the name of the only person from my family tree I was ever capable of standing.”

“So because it mattered to you.” Cullen took a step forward and then another one until he was close enough to press a kiss to the back of Dorian’s neck. He shifted to slide Octavian over to Dorian, smiling when the man’s arms moved to cradle the boy without ever breaking eye contact with Cullen. “You are a better man than your father. You will not make the same mistakes he did.”

“But I  _yelled_ at him,” Dorian said, voice wavering. “He only knocked his juice over because he was so excited to see me, but all I could see were the stains seeping into the manuscripts and I…and I…”

“You made a mistake,” Cullen acknowledged. He settled a hand on the small of Dorian’s back. “But being able to recognize that means you’ll have better control next time. Or have you already forgotten how you shouted me down that time I managed to bump our son with my boot?”

“It was  _armored_ ,” Dorian said. “If it had bruised I would have your head.” He shook his head, a sigh breaking free. “How is it again that you manage to forgive me?”

That was an easy answer. “Because I love you.” Cullen scrunched his fingers over Octavian’s belly until the boy squirmed and eked out one of his full belly laughs. “Just as much as  _our_  little one does.”

“Fools.” Yet Dorian was smiling as Octavian wrapped tiny fingers around one of his papa’s shiny buckles, burrowing in close. “The both of you.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The start of the Octavian fills! Fair warning, he's adopted, not conceived through mpreg. I'll warn for such a thing in the future.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian meets steampunk.

Dorian would never forget when the Grand Science Symposium reached Tevinter. His father had brought him there, yet the men inside the tents humored the nine-year-old’s interest far more than Halward himself had. He had been allowed to handle the craftsmanship with hands made careful through awe, but the true beauty had been in seeing them cracked open to show the work, all the spinning gears and the puffs of steam he hadn’t even realized could carry a scent before.

The man who ran the symposium told Halward that he should be proud to have a son with such an obvious aptitude for science; words that came to matter far more to Dorian than any of the empty flattery his parents had to offer as the years went on.

Still, love of the craft or no, being Skyhold’s main inventor–and therefore repairman–often had his patience wearing thin.

“ _Kaffas_ , what did Sera manage to do to this poor thing?” Dorian had managed to clear most of the muck out, although he had definitely ruined his gloves in the process.

“I think she was trying to make it shoot honey,” Cullen said. “Or at least that’s what I was able to get out of her through the giggles. I’m just glad she didn’t manage to get her hands on my sword.”

“No, she merely robbed you of the weapon with the far greater reaction time and better distance range.” Dorian clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Sweet as it is, your habit of clinging to such old fashion ways truly does alarm me at times.”

“Of course it does.”

Dorian had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep his smile at bay. Perhaps it was just his imagination–alright, so it almost certainly was–but he liked to imagine that there was a touch of fondness mixed in with the Commander’s exasperation.

There had to be some reason why the man saw fit to wait around for Dorian to fix his weapon, after all, and couldn’t be just up to his chess skills and fine alcohol collection.

“That’s not right.”

Dorian glanced upwards, brow already furrowing downwards. “Excuse me?”

“You’re using the wrong… Hang on.” Cullen snagged the nearest sack, rifling through the “gifts” that Isabela, self-proclaimed terror of the skies, had dropped off on her most recent visit. “Aha!”

He dropped his collection of pieces out on the worktable, continuing to tug bits out as he went. “I was hoping that there might be some way around ripping the poor things whole innards out, but the main gear system must be well and truly wrecked, which is what’s giving you the problem. The edges of it are too corroded to get the right amount of friction off the others, so nothing’s relaying out to any of the calibers. If we could rebuild it on a smaller scale we might just be able to…”

There was more babbling to come, Dorian could certainly still see the Commander’s lips moving after all, but there was a strange sort of hum in his ears that caused all the words to be tuned out.

“I…” He cleared his throat, trying to will that too awkward feeling away. “And why exactly did you bring this to me when it seems you have the situation so well in hand?”

“Ah.” Cullen rubbed at the back of his neck, looking a little more like the man Dorian knew as the tips of his ears began to tinge pink. “You’ve been studying this sort of thing your whole life. You even have your  _magic_ hardwired to it. I’m just pulling from what I remember about helping out when things broke down on the farm. Nothing as incredible as well…” He waved his hand around Dorian’s crowded shop, including all the inventions–both finished and not–lying around in his remark.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Dorian jabbed in Cullen’s direction with his pillars. “You have been holding out on me, my dear man.”

“Taking you out to dinner at a place with more class than the local tavern should make up for that, yes?” And, by the Maker, Cullen Rutherford, Commander of their ragtag Inquisition, was apparently out to tip Dorian’s world on its ear today.

“Coming from a man such as yourself?” he said, trying to not let on to the hammering of his heart. “How can one refuse?”

And Dorian knew he was doomed when the way Cullen’s face lit up under the force of his smile was as beautiful as that first glimpse of true machinery years ago.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian does his best to be the parent he would have wanted.

Although a fair amount of time had passed since he was needed in the thick of battle (thank the Maker), Dorian would like to think that he still had a fine set of reflexes. Becoming a father had certainly helped to keep that part of him alert at the very least. So, even if he was engrossed in his current choice of reading material, it didn’t take him overly long to realize that he was being watched.

“Now what are you doing here?” Dorian dropped a bit of ribbon down into the book to serve as a placeholder before dropping it off on the table at his side. “Did you sneak away from your lessons again?”

Josephine–who Dorian still didn’t quite believe wasn’t in cahoots with his mother on this score–had set out to ensure that Octavian would receive an education worthy of any lad of noble birth. Yet the boy, even at his young age, tended to be at least five paces ahead of his tutors on a good day, always pushing for more information than expected. And, well, there would always be times when his Rutherford roots showed, making him find exploring the outside world far more entertaining than remaining inside of a dusty classroom.

The boy didn’t rise to his father’s jibe, however, eyes downcast as he toed at the floor with his boot. “I… I have a question.”

“Do you now.” Dorian patted his lap, unable to keep from smiling when his son crawled into the space without question. “And what is our policy on those?”

“Never be afraid to ask,” Octavian replied, “and you or Da will always tell me the truth.” He sighed. “The Iron Bull said it was important to trust you too.”

Dorian had to fight to keep his expression under control, yet he sucked in a harsh breath all the same. “I would hope that was something you already knew.”

Octavian’s head snapped up so quickly that the top of it almost knocked Dorian in the jaw. “I do!” His eyes were stricken, each word rambling out of him at increasing speed. “But I always thought I’d grow up to be like you and now that I’m not–”

“Hey now.” Dorian ran his hand across Octavian’s back, tugging him in against his chest. “Settle down and take a breath,  _mea affectuosius_ , then try again.”

Octavian did as commanded, bunching a hand into his father’s shirt in a comfort seeking gesture that he had yet to grow out of (if he were being honest Dorian didn’t want him to either). When he managed to speak again his voice was small. “I’m not a mage. And I know… I know my other parents were, back in Haven. I was gonna train with you one day, like you always said, but magic is supposed to come much earlier than this, even Anders said so.” His breath did a little hiccup that caused Dorian’s heart to twist for an entirely different reason. “But I didn’t mean for it to happen, Papa, I promise. I  _wanted_  to be like you.”

“Octavian…” Dorian frowned, having to turn his boy’s words over his head once more before responding. “You don’t think I’m  _upset_  that you’re not a mage, do you?”

Octavian prodded at one of Dorian’s still constant buckles, his rosebud of a mouth pursing. “You already had my beginner’s staff all ready.”

“And Da has had your practice sword for far longer,” Dorian said. “He is very proud of how proficient you’ve already proven yourself to be with it…and so am I.”

“Really?” Octavian said. “But it’s not–”

“Not magic?” Dorian arched a shoulder before letting it drop into a shrug. “Perhaps not, but that does not make you any less my son. You prove that every time you run your tutors ragged and talk circles around the visiting ambassadors.” He pressed a kiss to the boy’s forehead. “Not a single thing about you has ever been a disappoint to me,  _cor meum_.”

It took weeks for a response to return from Tevinter in regards to his last update on the status of the only heir Dorian had made clear he was providing. It was riddled with apologies over how Octavian had managed to escape the odds along with “helpful” suggestions on how to make sure this was truly the case.

Dorian glanced outside to where Anders was showing Octavian how a mage could cast spells in tandem to his blows, even if it was with a miniature wooden sword. It was entirely possible that the man, along with the rest of the gathered assembly, was enjoying Cullen’s stumbling almost curses and corrections far too much, but Dorian knew that the man, like himself, could regret nothing that could cause their son to peal with such open laughter.

He tossed the letter to the fire before trumping down the steps to give Cullen what would no doubt be a true shock indeed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither Octavian nor Dorian deal with separation anxiety well.

By this point, Dorian was at a lost to figure out why there were those that thought Octavian favored him. The boy had been quite alright at the start of the week when it came to seeing Cullen off, clinging to the ridiculous fur ruff the man wore and giggling obligingly when fingers scrunched against his tummy. But as soon as he realized that his other father was going to be gone for an excursion far longer than his routine trips down to his troops, Octavian had begun to wail with all the force his little lungs had to offer; which, considering that they were certainly still growing, was shockingly impressive.

The only breaks seemed to come when the little one managed to cry himself into exhaustion or was handed off to one of the nurses that Dorian was truly starting to pity. He couldn’t even be sure how much food was actually managing to get  _inside_  of Octavian at this point since spoonfuls could only be given to him between sobs and it wouldn’t take long for him to manage to cry himself to the point of being sick.

“ _Please_.” Dorian wouldn’t be surprised if there would be a tread in the floor by the time Cullen got back because of how often he had been forced to walk it. He could do it with his eyes closed, regardless of the darkness, although he was terrified he might drift off if he tried and the thought of possibly dropping his son was a horrifying one. “Certainly you need sleep as badly as I do, don’t you?”

Octavian merely whimpered, the bottom half of his full mouth jutting out and wobbling just so. It was enough to break Dorian’s heart all over again, even without the ever glassy eyes.

“Look, I know I’m not the one you would prefer, but I’m  _trying_. And I love you, you know that, don’t you? So, if you could just…even if it’s not as much as you feel for him…”

He didn’t even realize that his eyes were burning with something more than sleep until Octavian’s little starfish of a hand made a rather wet slap against his cheek.

“Excuse me?” Dorian wanted to keep the bite out of his voice, but was too tried to manage it completely. “I don’t think I’ve done anything to deserve that sort of–”

“Pa!” Octavian hit his hand against Dorian’s cheek again, wiggling his little body until the man acquiesced to hoisting him onto his shoulder. “Pa… Pa!” 

“Is that me?” Dorian asked, blinking. He chuckled when Octavian rewarded him with a slobbery kiss to the cheek and a good deal more babbling. “Well, what do you know, I beat out Cullen.”

*

When Cullen finally did come home it was some point around mid-morning the next day and he had to swallow his panic when he didn’t see either of the other occupants he shared his quarters with up and about.

Neither had gone far, however, as he was quick to discover once he reached the loft.

Octavian was spread out across Dorian’s chest, rising and falling with the man’s breaths although a hand on his back kept him from shifting any further. His little snores proved him too far gone to welcome Cullen back home, but Dorian made an effort, eyes fluttering open to half-mast.

“He named me, you know,” he remarked drowsily.

“Did he now?” Cullen sat down on the bed, brushing his lips over Dorian’s. “You’ll need to rest up then so you’ll have the strength to rub it in my face later.”

Dorian hummed, eyes closing already. “Only if you get your delightful ass back into this bed of ours, Commander.”

And, really, who was Cullen to ignore an order like that?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?”
> 
> High School AU

Cullen was under no illusions about just where he fit in the school food chain. Evelyn Trevelyan, ruler of the roost at Skyhold High, might have taken him under wing for reasons that still escaped him, but even she couldn’t alter the way he looked. His mouth was a mess of metal, although, thank the Maker, he had at least managed to skip out on having to wear headgear. His blocky glasses were almost always slipping down his nose and his clothes were either obvious hand-me-downs or just clearly patched up.

Which was why it was a horrible, cliched mess for him to have tumbled head over heels for the likes of Dorian  _impossibly perfect_  Pavus. He probably didn’t even know Cullen existed; he certainly didn’t have any need to with all the admirers he already had falling at his feet.

He meant that metaphorically, of course. Right up until fate decided it was done waiting around and let Sera trip him so badly that he wound up sprawled out on the ground, hissing out curses his glasses went flying.

“Damnit, Sera!” Cullen shot his hands out, hoping to find the glasses before they managed to get smashed underfoot. It wasn’t like his family could very well afford to get him a brand new pair at such short notice.

Except then the glasses were being fitted onto his face, causing Cullen’s world to focus enough to reveal Dorian smiling at him.

“I…I’m sorry.” Cullen ducked his head as he felt all of his blood shooting up into it, hands darting around to snatch up his fallen papers. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Did he actually just  _wink_  at Cullen? “I am well versed in having to deal with irritating friends, believe me.”

Cullen’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t get to say anything in response because that was in when a hand on his collar decided to yank him abruptly to his feet, nearly sending his glasses flying to the floor again.

“Come on, Pavus,” Iron Bull (if he had another name no one knew it) said, “it’s not nice to leave him on his knees like that.” He chuckled. “Save that for a less public place, eh?”

“That’s not…” Cullen had never seen Dorian lose his cool like this before, hands flailing as he shoved himself to his feet. “Set him down before you hurt him, you big brute!”

“Worried I’ll damage the goods?” Bull asked. “Don’t worry, I know how to play nice.” He slid a sidelong gaze over at Cullen in such a manner that the boy in question gulped. “Could always see if he wants to ride the Bull.”

“Oh, don’t you dare!” Dorian landed a punch on Bull’s arm that would surely cause his knuckles to ache later. “You know full well that I already claimed him for…” It took a moment or so for his mind to catch up with his tongue, but when he did the tips of Dorian’s ears turned pink all at once. “I mean…um….”

Cullen didn’t even realize that Bull had set him down until a large hand was pushing him in the direction of Dorian. “I expect full payment for making you both get off your damn asses already.”

“Oi!” Sera piped up, hands on her narrow hips. “I helped too!”

Cullen was a bit too focused on Dorian’s strangely timid smile to really hear either of them, though. 

“So…pizza after school?” Dorian asked.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Cullen said. He hesitated when the bell blared warningly, but darted in to press a kiss to Dorian’s cheek before dashing off all the same. It was certainly worth it when he got to peek back to find Dorian touching the spot his lips had touched with the tips of his fingers, a goofy smile spreading slowly across his face.

His life might actually be shaping up to be one of those ridiculous romantic movies after all, but he was a little too busy floating on air to give a damn. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian doing something cute for Cullen (like making him a flower crown or something) and obsessing over whether it's too cliche/emasculating.

To say that Dorian was out of his depth was an understatement. If it were only a matter of sex things would be fine. He could simply sequester Cullen away towards the nearest horizontal (or vertical, he’s not overly picky) and act out every fantasy that’s been building up in his mind.

Except his daydreams haven’t always been dirty when they turn towards the Commander. And it was when his mind decided to churn out lazy morning  _cuddles_ , of all things, that he knew he was doomed.

Except he’s still not entirely sure how that lead him to his current position.

The gardens at Skyhold are expansive enough, if a little overgrown, more than suited for providing enough of a bounty for such a task. He hasn’t tried to make one of these since his nurse used to loop ones together for him, giggling over being able to properly crown the little prince of the household at last.

But Cullen wasn’t a little child. And, for all his sweet blushes and wild curls that broke loose at the merest suggestion of heat, he didn’t seem all that attracted to things that could only be called…well…“cutesy” either.

So how was he going to react to…

“Dorian?”

The man in question didn’t actually manage to jump a foot in the air, but it was quite close if you asked him. It at least caused his grip on the object in his hands to start to falter, which made him swallow far too hard when a gloved hand scooped it up.

Cullen held the ring of flowers with a surprising amount of care, turning it over in his hands, brow furrowed. “Is this a gift for someone?” he asked.

“Ah…well…” Dorian cleared his throat, squaring back his shoulders. “Yes, it is.”

Cullen hummed thoughtfully. “I’d have thought you’d want to make it bigger if it’s destined to wind up on the head of the Iron Bull. Although I suppose you could always loop it around one of his horns.”

“I…  _What_?!” Dorian didn’t even notice the way that Cullen jolted at his outburst. “Whatever makes you think it’s for him?”

“Well…I…” Cullen rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand. “You two have been getting along fairly well as of late and I just thought that… Well… What with how you both…  _Maker_ , can I just apologize and be done with it?”

“Only if you agree to wear your gift as well,” Dorian said.

“What gift? I don’t remember…” Then a pink smear erupted across Cullen’s cheeks all at once. “You mean this is for…” The smile he gave in response to Dorian’s nod was near to blinding and the crown was plopped atop his head in a flash. “Thank you, Dorian, it’s a lovely gift.”

The few recruits that dare to giggle at the sight of their Commander with flowers in his curls are forced to run extra drills and if Dorian lags around the training field more than usual, book in hand, surely no one can blame him. Especially not when Cullen shoots him shy little smiles almost every chance he has.

When Dorian wakes up the next morning there’s a bundle of lilies outside his door, twined together with gold string.

Perhaps he has a better handle on this whole courtship business than he had originally thought. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian and Cullen get turned into toddlers for a span of time. About all the chaos you expect happens.

Utterly no one was surprised that Cullen was as well-behaved at two as he had been in his thirties or just as shy. It had taken the promise of being able to visit the mabari brood down in the stables to convince him to edge away from Josephine’s skirts at last. He chased after them at the fastest pace his little legs would allow (which was truly more than a waddle due to the little pudgy that all of them had tickled at least once), giggling with delight whenever one would leap up high enough to lick at his face. He had taken his afternoon nap right there, nestled in amongst a pile of dozing puppies, so happy that none of them had the heart to move him.

Dorian, on the other hand…

Freyja had been trying to sort the papers on Cullen’s desk into some semblance of order when she first heard the little whimpers. A quick glance up showed that Cullen was quite alright still, although he was clutching at his wooden sword, eyes wide as he looked towards the other corner of the room.

Dorian was relatively content on his little pile of pillows (angled just right to catch all the sunbeams that filtered in) so long as he had a book to flip through. He might not be able to understand the words yet, but he adored being able to look at the pictures, slapping a hand down on them from time to time to babble away about just what he was seeing.

Leaning forward to read, however, often sent his floppy bangs tumbling down into his rounded face even more so than usual. And with no one to wipe them away for him, he was determined to try to do it himself. But with his motor skills still developing what occurred most often was a quick slap to the face.

Which was apparently exactly what had just happened if the screwing up of Dorian’s face was any judge.

“Oh,  _da'len_ , no, it’s alright, I promise…” But Freyja wasn’t able to get out from behind the desk fast enough to stop Dorian from wailing out, little fists pounding down onto his pillowy throne.

It was enough to make Freyja eye the curtains warily as she hurried to scoop him. There were quite a few drapes with singed bottoms now and, despite Dorian’s earnest oaths, she was quite sure that only  _half_  of them had been on accident.

Except this time, the object of Dorian’s accidental mischief was the ends of Cullen’s curls.

Fortunately Josephine arrived in time to dose the little flames with a bit of water from a nearby pitcher, sweeping the lingering soot free, but the damage had already been done. Especially when Dorian started to giggle, of all things.

“Dorian!” The little one’s eyes darted up to her, gone wide in surprise. “It isn’t nice to laugh at someone who’s scared.”

Dorian’s bottom lip jutted out, brow crinkling defiantly. “Not scary!” he insisted. “Funny!” It wasn’t until he glanced at Cullen that his expression faltered, taking in the other boy’s watery eyes and trembling mouth. He reached out his arms, mouth falling open in dismay when Cullen turned to hide his face in Josephine’s neck instead. “Cullen!”

“Perhaps it’d be best to separate them for a time.” Josephine fixed Dorian with a firm look. “Time that I hope you’ll use to come up with a proper apology, Dorian.” She left then, running her hand in smoothing circles across Cullen’s back.

Dorian, meanwhile, clung to Freyja’s shirt as she moved to sit back behind the desk, hiccuping just a little. He didn’t squirm away from the fingers that came to wipe the tears from his full cheeks or the lips that landed against his brow. “Didn’t… Didn’t mean to,” he said. “He liked it ‘fore.”

“I know,” Freyja said, “but it wasn’t  _being_  done to him before. And he might have thought you were making fun of him when you laughed.”

“Nu-uh!” Dorian shook his head fiercely, although Freyja might try to say otherwise. “Cullen is sp…spec…” He pursed his mouth, determined to get the word out right. “ _Special_.”

Freyja bit down on the inside of her cheek, but even that wasn’t enough to suppress her smile. “Well then, we ought to do something extra good to make up for things, shouldn’t we?”

*

Dorian insisted on picking out the flowers to make the bouquet himself, even agreeing to a bath before heading over to the little suite of rooms that had been designated as Cullen’s for the time being.

He beamed when Josephine told him that, yes, Cullen was indeed done with his nap and got a smile in turn (along with a kiss on the cheek that made him puff up his tiny chest proudly) when he presented her with her own little gathering of flowers.

The two adults remained in the doorway, peering in to watch Dorian crawl up into Cullen’s bed and hoist the flowers out to him. It was difficult to make out all the words, but all that really mattered was how Cullen flung his pudgy arms around Dorian, presenting him with a smacking kiss to the cheek.

And since the flowers took a place of pride on Cullen’s desk when the spell wore off a few days later (the Commander blushing happily each time he looked at them), Freyja decided against lording the story over him.

(Pushing Dorian into Cullen’s office, however? Well, neither her  _or_  Josephine were quite above that.)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neck Kisses. 
> 
> Or where Dorian learns none of his usual games apply to Cullen.

Dorian enjoyed flirting. It came far more easily to him than Cullen, having been raised in a place where it was all but a sport. Anything that could qualify as a bit of wordplay brought Dorian’s spirits up and Cullen was loathe to rob him of that.

That didn’t mean, however, that it didn’t bring an unpleasant wrench to his gut when he stumbled across such encounters. 

He was able to take some level of comfort in the knowledge that with the Inquisitor, at the very least, such things would lead to nothing. Dorian was rather adamant about his utter lack of interest in the fairer sex, after all, and if the way their leader’s gaze followed Josephine from time to time she would be the last one to try to challenge him over it. It was simply how they found their amusement and, besides, more than half the compliments were probably genuine.

It was harder when it came to others, though, for Cullen knew that he didn’t have any official claim on Dorian. He still wasn’t sure what fortune had lead Dorian to turn his attention towards him, even if it was merely to bed, but he was well aware that Dorian would not have to look far for another partner. Or that there would be no way of stopping him should he decide to leave.

Which was why Cullen’s heart all but plummeted towards his shoes when he entered the tavern to find Dorian all but draped across the Iron Bull.

He have turned to beat a hasty retreat had Dorian not noticed him before such a thing could be done.  

“Ah, Cullen! Come to grace us with your presence at last? I’ve even saved a seat for you.” He waved towards his lap with a waggle of his eyebrows, turned delightfully loose by the ale he had been indulging in.

“That might not be such a good idea…” Cullen said, eyes flicking to Bull.

The Qunari merely tipped his head back to laugh, however. “Pretty I can handle the both of you, Commander.” There was no mistaking the lewd tint to his voice, not when his hand was resting along the inside of Dorian’s thigh and his eyes were fixed on Cullen like…well like  _that_.

The spread of lips actually felt painful, pressing in against his cheeks as Cullen forced himself to smile. “Another night, perhaps,” he said. “I seem to have forgotten–”

He was interrupted by a snort from Dorian, yet when he looked at him the other man merely twirled his hand in the air, the many rings on his fingers each catching the firelight in turn. “Of course you have. Many things are more important than myself as you are quick to show.” He ducked his head to take another swig from his mug, yet it wasn’t enough to disguise the bitter twist to his face.

“More important than…” Cullen wasn’t able to unidentify what exactly was bubbling up inside of him until his arm was swinging out towards Bull. “And what is this exactly? If you want it done I wish you would merely say so instead of doing…instead of doing whatever  _this_  is.”

“Done?” Dorian snapped back. “Why would I want this done?” Cullen wondered if he was imagining the slight tremble to the hand the mage ran through his hair. “You’re the one with the promise of something better once you’re through.”

“The promise of…?” Cullen shook his head, deciding that was more than enough. And when words failed there really was only one thing to do, wasn’t there?

Dorian watched Cullen’s approach warily, squawking as he was yanked backwards by the collar. Yet quite a different sound slipped out of his mouth when Cullen sank his teeth into the spread of his throat, soothing the sting away with a swipe of tongue before pressing a lingering kiss there.

“Why would I wish for something better?” Cullen asked. “When I already have all that once seemed impossible to attain?” He straightened then, shifting Dorian back into his regular position with a cough that was only slightly awkward. “I’ll be in my quarters if anyone might need me.”

It took Bull’s hand coming down on Dorian’s back to snap him out of his daze and by then the Commander was already long gone.

“Well ‘vint? Pretty sure he’s already given you your written invitation.”

“Yes, I did notice, you oaf.” 

Dorian downed what was left of his drink in one go before clambering out of Bull’s lap, figuring a little bit of liquid courage couldn’t hurt. He certainly wasn’t above flipping off the crowds that cheered on his way out either, even if that only made the hollering worse.

He got to Cullen’s quarters in what seemed like a remarkably short amount of time, although he barely even had to raise his hand to knock before the door was flung open to reveal a flustered looking Cullen.

“Oh, thank the Maker,” he breathed, “you’re actually here.”

Dorian looped an arm around Cullen, leaning in to press his face into the other man’s throat, if just to breathe him in. (Although that wasn’t to say he didn’t miss the shiver that ran through Cullen when he did so.) “Believe me,  _amatus_ , there is nowhere else I would rather be.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Animalistic behaviors and characteristics, dominant (snarling; sniffing; scent-marking or biting; other claiming acts; territoriality; predatory stalking; cuffing; forcing the partner's neck down; claws and other features)

Cullen isn’t sure what he’s done. Dorian insists that it means nothing, that all of it is just a bit of fun, but it doesn’t keep him from feeling sick whenever he sees the other man teasing an archivist in the library into a twittering mess or overhears quips exchanged with Trevelyan that leave little to the imagination.

It’s the trip to the Winter Palace that makes a true mess of things, though.

It wasn’t as though Cullen would have been capable of enjoying himself in such a place to begin with, already on edge without having to try to decode the impossible language of the court or with gazes that are far too overfamiliar following his every step.

No, he also had to watch Dorian try to woo almost every man at court, dancing with everyone  _except_  Cullen. Perhaps Cullen had still been too bitter when he brought it up later, but he still didn’t think it warranted the fight that ensued.

Dorian accused him of trying to control him–a ludicrous concept; who could ever manage such a thing?–and had stormed out, ordering Cullen not to speak to him unless it was to apologize.

Cullen, however, delves into a different tactic–beating Dorian at his own game. 

He insists on showing recruits just what he means at practice, hands sliding over over those of a woman’s to show her how to grip her sword. He smoothes his fingers down the back of a boy later, hand gripping his shoulder as he guides the soldier into the proper position. By the time he leaves the field everyone is muttering about how at least half the recruits have stars in their eyes and that the color in their cheeks is not all to do with exertion.

The servants whisper about how the Commander’s mood has much improved and that he looks  _so_  much handsomer when he smiles, eyes warm as he thanks them for caring enough to ensure meals are brought up if he doesn’t remember to come down to fetch them. One girl claims he even squeezed her hand.

The night ends with Cullen in the tavern, having Krem teach him one bawdy Tevinter phrase after another, even managing to laugh through his blush when the Iron Bull promises to provide on hand demonstrations if necessary.

He sees nothing of Dorian until he returns to his quarters that night, body gone loose through more drinks than he usually allowed himself, and finds himself be shoved up against the wall, another body a hot, hard line over his own. He doesn’t try to fight until Dorian leans in for a kiss, twisting his head to the side, so the lips skim across his jaw. The growl he receives for such an action is unexpected but by no means unpleasant.

“Can I help you, Lord Pavus?” he asks, knowing full well how Dorian hates that title.

“That depends,  _Commander_ ,” Dorian bites back. “How many people have had you today?”

Cullen swallows hard, forcing back the heat that threatens to rise around his neck as he meets Dorian’s narrowed eyes. “About as many as you allow to believe might have you, I’m sure.”

His back slams against the desk none too gently, papers fluttering everywhere while a telltale shattering sound informs him that at least one inkwell has been lost. Dorian is over him before he can regain his footing, one leg pressed up between his own while a hand shoots up to grab hold of his hair, keeping him steady so the mage can steal a kiss at last.

Cullen doesn’t make it easy for him, however, trashing under the hold and biting against Dorian’s lower lip in a way that cannot truly be pleasant. He doesn’t taste blood (not yet) but the spot is swollen when Dorian pulls back, pleasing him more than it should.

“And what made you think you had the right?” Dorian demands.

It’s Cullen’s turn to growl now, the arm that loops around his waist the only warning Dorian has before he is slammed back onto the desk himself. The man’s mouth has already dropped open, of course, gray eyes raging, but the words are stolen from his throat once Cullen sinks his teeth into it. The Commander speaks between those bites, suckling at the skin as he nips without bothering to soothe the sting away like he has at other times with a kiss or a spread of tongue.

“Have you so quickly forgot?  _You_  did.”

“I would never–” The words are swallowed up in a kiss, Cullen’s teeth dragging against his still tender bottom lip as he pulls back.

“Yes, you would,” Cullen says. “For if I cannot control you then why should I allow you the same pleasure?”

“That’s not… I didn’t mean…  _Cullen_.” Dorian has to slam his teeth together to keep from whimpering when Cullen slides his tongue up his neck in a single stroke, humming against the rapidly beating pulse that greets him.

“I don’t know what illusions you’re under.” Cullen’s voice is remarkably calm, as steady as when he lists off possible military tactics at the war table. “But you are mine.  _This_ –” And there’s no holding back the gasp that escapes Dorian when Cullen reaches down to squeeze at the swell in his breeches. “–is mine. If you think I will allow another to lay claim to any part of you, to so much  _believe_  that they might, then I am here to disillusion you of that notion.”

“But… But what about…” Dorian swallows hard, fighting back the sting behind his eyes. He doesn’t know why he has been brought to the verge already, but he refuses to cry before Cullen, for if he does then surely this–whatever it is–will be over. “When you are done with me…”

Cullen cuts across his words, swift and certain. “I don’t intend to be done with you.”

The laugh that breaks free from Dorian sounds strained even to him and he hates it. He used to be better at masking such emotions. What has the South done to him? “A pretty thought, Commander, but when some Ferelden lass bats her eyelashes at you or one of your soldiers confesses to a higher admiration?”

“Then I will tell them my heart is already claimed.” Cullen’s fingers are gentle against his jaw, even through the rough scrape of the leather, lips whisper soft against his cheek. “By a handsome, vivid,  _insufferable_  man. It goes both ways, Dorian.”

“Well, yes, I had hoped… I mean…” Dorian’s eyes slam shut, trying to pretend he is anywhere but here when he speaks, although it’s impossible to shut away the heat of Cullen’s gaze. “What does your heart have to do with it?”

“Do you truly not know?” Cullen leans in to brush his mouth across Dorian’s. “I love you, Dorian.”

The tears slip free at last then, but Cullen simply folds him into his arms, soothing a hand down his back. He hasn’t been treated like this since he was a child, back when affection was given to him freely, no recompense to be sought after.

He isn’t sure how Cullen manages to bundle him up the ladder, yet he winds up on the man’s bed all the same.

Cullen takes longer preparing him than usual, even when Dorian trashes, sheets tangled in his fingers as he insists that  _four_  fingers are highly unnecessary. But he groans unabashedly when Cullen finally pushes in, ankles hooking around the man’s waist to ensure he knows just where he should remain.

He doesn’t allow Cullen to go slow here, digging his nails into the meat of the other man’s shoulders as he pushes back against each thrust for all he’s worth. He knows he has it when Cullen rumbles deep in his chest, fixing a hand around Dorian’s throat.

Such a gesture should be harsher than it is, yet Cullen uses it to drag his thumb across each rapidly bruising bit of skin he can find on Dorian’s neck, eyes alighting with approval whenever Dorian jumps at the touch.

Cullen fusses over him the next day, alarmed that his gait is so unsteady and insisting that he stay longer in bed, fetching whatever projects Dorian was working on from the library himself. 

But he doesn’t ask Dorian to cover the marks, which means Dorian all but preens when the girl that brings Cullen his breakfast gasps at the sight of him, eyes lingering even when she backs out of the room.

Cullen shakes his head, mumbling out, “Proud boy,” against his lips when he kisses him.

Dorian tangles his fingers in Cullen’s fur ruff to keep him close, smiling small and true. “I deserve to be,” he murmurs. “When you consider what’s mine.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Octavian's first birthday.

In Tevinter any celebration was done in style. So it stood to reason that Dorian remembered the festivities for his birthday to be larger than life. But then the gatherings had been more about the adults who frequented it than himself and once he was older it was for him to be shoved towards whoever his parents thought were the proper people to socialize with.

Still, that didn’t mean he was about to tolerate Cullen’s insistence that a simple celebration in his quarters would be enough to celebrate Octavian’s very first birthday. And, fortunately, the rest of Skyhold was on  _his_  side.

“He won’t even remember any of it,” had become Cullen’s frequently bemoaned line.

“That doesn’t matter,” had been Dorian’s final rebuttal. “What matters is that everyone will be coming together to shower him with love. Every child deserves that.”

From the way the Commander’s expression had softened all at once over that, Dorian had been horrified over just what mushy reaction he was about to get out of the man. But instead Cullen had just leaned over to scrunch his fingers over Octavian’s belly, grinning as the boy kicked out his feet in delight.

“Now there’s a cause I can support.”

Octavian wound up quite overwhelmed on the big day, however, not having expected to have to stare down a tavern full of people all yelling at him, even if it was with big smiles and a birthday greeting. His eyes had gotten distressingly watery as they widened, but, thank the Maker, any meltdowns were saved the instant he caught sight of all the shiny wrapping paper and, even better, the giant tiered cake.

It took quite the effort from Cullen to get him to unwrap the presents first, but at least he put in a good effort at squeaking over everything he got. (Although Dorian wasn’t going to let him handle half those weapons even if they  _were_  just toys.)

It was the slice of cake he was presented with that got a full body squirm out of the boy, though, and Sera whooped in delight when he face planted it, grabbing for handfuls on his way up.

“Oh, yes, please do ruin your best outfit,” Dorian sighed. “I swear…” The rest of his words were lost in a recoil of horror as Octavian responded by slapping a terrifyingly cake covered hand directly onto Dorian’s chest.

“Papa!” he announced. Then he beamed in a way that put his impressive collection of new teeth on display, hands jumping up into the air, wiggling as though that would be enough to propel him towards his target.

“You little rascal you,” Dorian grumbled as he scooped the boy up. He couldn’t complain about the cake no doubt getting smeared into his hair, though, not when Octavian was giggling directly into his ear.

Besides, from the look on Cullen’s face you’d have thought he had never been more beautiful.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Don't let me die."
> 
> Cullen, after getting injured in battle, is terrified that he won't have a chance to say what matters most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No actual death of anyone, never fear.

If any one besides the Inquisitor had asked, Dorian would have tried to find some way around it. Sitting at the side of one dying man hardly qualified him to turn it into a morbid lifetime pursuit, necromancer or not.

But it  _had_ been Freyja, already looking worn no matter how poised she kept herself, dashing around with the other healers even when people balked over her status. He found it difficult to say no to her on a regular day, let alone when her doe like eyes were already going glossy with more than just weariness.

He merely wished that out of any of the tents he could have been lead to it hadn’t been  _this_ one.

Cullen’s status in the Inquisition afforded him well-furnished, private accommodations along the edge of camp. His soldiers had determinedly established rotating shifts outside, yet it gave Dorian some comfort to see that even they were unnerved by the noises coming from within the tent.

The wounds were particularly grisly, there was no way of denying that, but the healers had sworn that all that was left was for Cullen’s body to fight off the infections and Maker knew what else so that his body could begin to repair itself.

The bandages had been changed, at least, but Dorian’s tongue clucked sharply against the roof of his mouth when he saw the film of sweat that had gathered along Cullen’s forehead.

“Really now, there’s no excuse for…” He shook his head, pouring the pitcher of (mercifully cool) water out into the bowl next to it before fetching a cloth to soak.

The first few dabs across Cullen’s face were tentative, wincing when the man began to groan, sightless eyes darting frantically around. He caught the hand that flailed out squeezing it gently. It was an action that seemed to calm the other man, although he still seemed determined to get what something across.

“D…Don’t let…” Cullen’s tongue darted out against his dry lips, an action that would have held Dorian’s attention for a far different reason before. “Don’t let me die…please.”

Dorian all but dropped the cloth, hissing out a curse. It wasn’t as if Cullen had enough sense at the moment to understand who he was talking to. Perhaps he thought he was merely crying out to the Maker. But Dorian could still remember what he had overheard the little nest of healers muttering over; something about how promises could damn you.

“P–Please!” Cullen all but clawed at Dorian’s hand, eyes wide and even more wild as the volume of his voice increased. “I can’t… Not after I finally…” He swallowed hard. “I found what I always wanted. I have to stay with him.”

Dorian pushed aside the painful twist to his heart. Now wasn’t the time to give in to such petty jealously, especially when the Commander had never actually been his to begin with. “And who is this lucky man then?”

“…Dorian.”

Dorian gave a slight start, thinking that Cullen’s fever had finally broken. Yet the man in question was staring up at the ceiling of the tent instead of at him, a small smile playing across his lips, and no more aware of his surroundings than before.

“I can’t die. I  _won’t_. Dorian needs me.”

Dorian didn’t even realize the tremor was there until he felt it against his lips when he drew Cullen’s hand up. “Indeed I do, amatus. So you can see why I can hardly allow them to take you now.”

*

Dorian was still there when Cullen’s fever broke, days later. It didn’t take an intelligent man to tell that he didn’t remember what he had stammered out either, not with his scrambling to cover himself up and efforts to apologize for being a burden, of all things.

So it was a gamble for Dorian to cut the ramblings off with a kiss, but one well worth it when Cullen responded by grabbing onto whatever parts of Dorian he could to drag him in close.

The rhythmic thumping Dorian could feel through Cullen’s skin was about as miraculous itself.  


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You are so whipped."
> 
> Where Cullen happens to have a budding crush on the handsome man that frequents their little coffee shop.

“You’re so whipped.” Cullen turned to look over his shoulder just in time to catch the raspberry Sera blew at him. “You got his order all ready to go, don’t ya? And he’s not even due in for another five minutes.”

“It pays to treat our regulars well, is all.” Cullen didn’t look at Sera this time as he shrugged, but it wasn’t hard to guess what she was doing again based on the wet sound that came from behind him. He just wished she hadn’t followed it up with commentary.

“Is that gonna be the line you use to try at sucking his–”

Fortunate or not, it was the man himself who cut her off, swirling in with all his regular flair and string of curses against the snow outside. Cullen was already opening his mouth in greeting, lifting up the pre-made coffee order, until he caught sight of the man alongside Dorian. 

“ _Kaffas_ , don’t laugh at me Felix! You should be suffering alongside me!” His eyes alight on Cullen only once, a small smile curling it’s way onto his lips when he catches sight of the coffee. “Thank you, Cullen, you are Maker sent, I swear.”

He’s tugging the other man–Felix–off with him before Cullen can say a thing, however, chatting the whole way. It shouldn’t be so uncomfortable to watch the familiar way Dorian drapes himself over Felix or how his face lights up whenever the man says something. But, Maker, even Sera was giving him a pitying look by the time he ducked into the back room under the excuse of restocking.

By the time he came back out Dorian was already at the door, stringing his far too expensive scarf around his neck. At least then he was able to remind himself why it was foolish for him to think that he could ever have a chance with someone like Dorian. He had mistaken friendliness for true attraction, like ever. At least Sera wouldn’t question dragging the whole gang out for a round of drinks or two to help him forget.

“Um…hello?”

Cullen wished he could have covered his surprise better, but he supposed the way he started at the sound of Felix’s voice had pretty much robbed him of that. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” He cleared his throat. “Can I help you?”

“Most likely,” Felix said, “but, to be honest, I’d much rather help you.” He winced, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead. “Alright, so that came out horrible. Just…him and I? We’re not together and never will be. Especially since he clearly took me here just to have an excuse to show you off.”

“Felix!” Dorian slung his his arm over the man’s shoulders, a frown on his face as he peered at Cullen. “What did you say to the poor man to have him turning so many shades of red?”

Cullen cleared his throat, summoning up all the courage his commanders had once sworn he had. “Just that I should be inviting you out for drinks tonight. Around seven sound good?”

Watching Dorian go speechless for once, a faint dusting of pink along his cheeks, was almost as grand as when Cullen made him so the second time later that night, a hand wrapped around the man’s ridiculous scarf to keep him close.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Dorian live in neighboring apartments, and Dorian's cat keeps leaping onto Cullen's balcony

The first time it happened Cullen almost threw the water can he had been using to try to will the plants on his balcony to life clear into the air. It certainly didn’t help that the whole incident was concluded with a bellowing from nearby that resulted in a tiny mass of fur trying to claw its way up Cullen’s shirt. Or that the man doing the shouting was the neighbor that he had already pegged as one of those types who was simply too beautiful for his limited social graces. 

“Oh, by the…” Dorian dragged a hand over his face. “Not that I don’t approve of your tastes, Genitivi, but I would have hoped to make a better impression on our dashing neighbor.”

Cullen glanced down at the dark haired kitten he had cradled in his hands, who was trying rather determinedly to lick Cullen’s fingers clean. “You named your cat after Brother Genitivi?” He paused, feeling somewhat knocked off center as the rest caught up with him. “Dashing?”

Dorian somehow managed to look equally as surprised, although he at least managed to recover from it quicker. “Well handsome  _and_ intelligent. You’re making yourself in to quite the catch, Officer Rutherford.”

Cullen ducked his head around a blush only to chuckle when Genitivi took advantage of it to swat at his nose. “Keep saying things like that,” he said, “and I won’t want to return your cat.”

Dorian stumbled backwards, seizing at his heart through a shirt that probably cost about half of Cullen’s paycheck. “You dare to hold my cat hostage?”

“Well…” Cullen rubbed his finger over Genitivi’s head, grinning when the kitten purred. “It will only cost you coming over for some coffee…”

There was something surprisingly soft in Dorian’s face when he smiled back. “Now that I can do, dear sir.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Straight up filthy smut per request from a friend. Mind the warnings!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: teacher/student relationship, underage sex, spanking, some hints of breathplay

Were Cullen a wiser man, he would have found a way to avoid Dorian Pavus. Someone that handsome could only mean trouble, no matter the age, and especially when capable of wielding those looks with such confidence. There was no denying that Dorian knew full well what he was doing; the end of his pen going to his mouth whenever he thought someone was looking, legs spreading wide underneath his desk.

The boy was the sort that was going to find his way into trouble one way or another. But, then, Cullen supposed that had been why he hadn’t been able to leave him alone in the first place.

Dorian should have stuck out like a sore thumb–a posh boy who without his wild antics would never have stepped foot in public school. Yet all that arrogance crumbled the instant anyone showed him even a dash of kindness, leaving behind a strangely vulnerable desperation behind in its wake. Cullen was just grateful that, out of all the people that Dorian could have wound up with, it had been Freyja Lavellan and her gang, who, well ragtag, would never dream of taking advantage of their newfound addition.

Truly, that was were things should have ended, with Dorian safe and secure in his new group of friends and Cullen happy for him to be there. But leaving things well enough alone had never been one of Cullen’s strong suits, especially when Dorian turned out to be such an excellent student. The boy was never more gleeful then when he was being handed a classical text of some sort and the discussion topics he brought up were truly fascinating.

Or at least that had been the case until Cullen had made the mistake of assigning the Iliad only to have Dorian stare him dead in the eyes and ask, earnest as could be, “But what about the homoerotic subtext, sir?” There had been a hint of a smirk on his face as Cullen stumbled for an answer too, at least until Solas decided to cut in with his own thoughts.

He knew it might be nothing more than his own overactive imagination, but he still took steps to squash whatever budding infatuation might be forming. It was difficult but not impossible to call on others that had their hands raised, despite how it made Dorian treat it all as some sort of competition. The only real issue came when Dorian took it upon himself to cut directly across one of Sera’s more bawdy commentaries to tell her exactly how idiotic it was, which lead to Cullen having to find a way to stop the two from launching across their desks at each other. It had ended with Dorian tossing his homework down on Cullen’s desk without so much as a glance in his teacher’s direction and, though surprisingly painful, Cullen had supposed that that was that.

At least until he came back to the classroom a few days later to close up only to find Dorian pined to his desk by Iron Bull.

“Ah, sorry, teach.” Bull pulled back from Dorian with a wet smack that turned Cullen’s stomach for reasons he didn’t want to examine. “I wouldn’t have chosen your desk–respect and all that–but Pavus was pretty insistent.”

“Of course he was,” Cullen grit out. He rose his thumb and pointer finger up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “I suppose you understand why I have to ask you to leave now?”

Bull nodded. “Of course, teach.” He huffed a laugh as he pushed away from the desk, glancing back at Dorian. “Hope you got yourself sorted now, ‘Vint.” He swaggered towards the door, tugging it closed after him.

“Oh, of all the…” Dorian trailed off with a snort. He was still quite a sight, well kept hair tugged into a mess and lips gone swollen. He all but sneered when his eyes landed on Cullen. “I suppose you want me to go as well, sir? You made that quite clear alre–” The rest of his words were lost in a yelp as Cullen grabbed hold of his uniform tie, yanking it to the side in one fierce swipe.

“Is this how you learned to get attention?” Cullen hissed. He leaned in, taking in Dorian’s rapidly fluttering lashes as he slid his thigh up between the spread of the boy’s legs. He tugged down hard on the bit of silk (of course it would be) in his hold when Dorian ground down against his thigh with barely even a pause for thought. “Were you looking to be punished?”

The answer was there in the way Dorian’s eyes widened, Adam’s apple bobbing visibly as he swallowed against the tension.

_Oh, fuck._

“Dorian, I…”

But Dorian lashed out with both hands when Cullen took a step back, his grip on the tie starting to slacken, fingernails digging into Cullen’s arms through his dress shirt to keep him right where he was. “No, Cullen… I mean, sir… I…” He huffed in frustration, eyes wild. “You can’t stop now, please, I really won’t. I’ll be good, so good, I promise, so please don’t…”

Maker’s breath, this was why Cullen had tried to avoid getting involved in the first place, but now that he was here…

“Shush.” He brushed his lips over Dorian’s to calm his babbling, able to feel the way the boy’s breath hitched at the contact. “I know, Dorian, I do… But that doesn’t mean you can escape your punishment.” Dorian’s brow furrowed in confusion was the last thing Cullen saw before releasing his hold of his tie in favor of grabbing the boy’s hips instead, using the leverage to spin him back over his desk. At least Dorian had the self-preservation to catch himself with his arms against the desk. “If it gets to be much…”

“Then I’ll say so.” Dorian yelped, squirming against the warning pinch to a buttock. “Promise?”

“Atta boy,” Cullen muttered. He smoothed a hand across the curve of Dorian’s behind, humming thoughtfully. “Fifteen sounds about right. For trying to convince someone that they had a right to what was mine. Which I trust won’t happen again?”

“No, sir,” Dorian murmured.

“Good boy.” Cullen chuckled at the way Dorian preened under the simple endearment. “Now, I want you to count off. Missing one will earn you an extra two, understood?” He waited until Dorian nodded to land the first strike, enjoying the way the boy gasped at the contact far too much.

He had to strain to remember that Dorian was still new to this all as the boy whimpered around each number, straining back for each touch, even if it was the sting of the slap. He was so distracted that he almost didn’t notice when his next strike was met with silence.

“…Dorian?”

Dorian’s forehead slunk down to press against the cool wood of the desk with a whine. “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to–” He gasped as the next blow landed quick and without warning, voice strained as he tried to remember where the ones that came next placed them. “T–Twelve! Thirteen! …Fourteen?” He groaned when the last came, stuttering out a weak, “Fifteen.”

“There you are, love.” Dorian mewled, slumped out entirely against the desk, almost too strung out to buck against Cullen’s hand as he worked on the boy’s pants. He didn’t even bother to get them all the way down, simply shoving a hand down and chuckling at the feel of more silk there to greet him. “Well,” he said, nipping at the tip of Dorian’s ear, “why don’t you take what you want? I’d daresay you’ve earned it by now.”

It took Dorian only a few short thrusts to come apart in Cullen’s hand and he had to press a kiss to the top of Dorian’s head when the poor boy tried to apologize of all things. “Very good.” He lifted his hand up to Dorian’s mouth, sighing in pleasure when the boy craned his head to lap at whatever he could reach, closing his mouth around one finger after another.

When he sagged back into his chair he brought Cullen with him, smiling at the way the boy folded up against him, nuzzling into his neck.

“I could… I should…” Dorian fought back a yawn, wiggling in Cullen’s lap. “Don’t you want me to do you now?”

“Later.” Cullen slid his fingers through Dorian’s hair, rubbing against his scalp until the boy began to rumble in contentment. “For now I’m alright with what I gave you.”

“Hm…” Dorian grinned at Cullen’s gasp as he nipped at the man’s neck. “Only if you fuck me proper next time.”

“Don’t know,” Cullen said. “I might want you to fuck  _me_  instead.” He chuckled at Dorian’s sharp inhale.

“That can be arranged,  _sir_.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian meets Purple Hawke by accident.
> 
> (Featuring Inquisitor!Carver as well; hinted at being with the Iron Bull)

Carver would like it to be known (for when Dorian grilled him later) that he did at least  _try_  to keep his brother off the scent. And, really, given how fascinated Garrett had been to realize that Carver even  _had_  a love life to start with, he had thought it would have been easy. Although, truth be told, trying to place Garrett alongside a word like “easy” should have been his first sign that things were bound to go horribly wrong.

“ _So_ ,” Garrett drawled, slinging an arm over his little brother’s shoulders, “when were you going to tell me about our dear Knight-Captain shacking up with a Tevinter magister.”

Squirming out from Garrett’s hold was all but second nature by this point. Swatting him over the head with Leliana and Josephine’s latest collaborated reports was simply an added benefit. “When are you going to remember that he’s my Commander now, not a Templar.” He sighed. “And Dorian’s an  _altus_. Exactly how many times am I going to have to tell you that?”

“Eh, they’re all the same, aren’t they?” Garrett yelped when he was smacked in earnest this time, rubbing a hand over the back of his head as he leaned back. “Hey! I only meant that–”

“I know what you meant,” Carver said, “and it wasn’t anything good.” He shook his head. “I know better than to try letting him around Fenris yet, but Anders will probably pass out on the spot, poor sod.”

Garrett snorted. “Such a pity your Tevinter prefers a different blonde or I would have thought I’d have found him the perfect match.”

Carver hitched a shoulder up in a halfhearted attempt at a shrug, glancing over at the chess match that had inspired his brother’s annoying pestering in the first place. He didn’t doubt that the men thought they were being subtle, yet their touches lingered and the pieces on the board sometimes lay all but forgotten so the two could banter only to wind up staring into the other’s eyes for at least half a minute.

He would have found such obvious romantic sweetness a little sickening in the past, but he would like to think he had grown since then. At least enough to be pleased to see two people he admired finally finding someone to lift the weight from their shoulders for a time.

However, there were some things one never grew out of and being an annoying little brother was one of them.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, “I know for a fact they’re somewhat partial to brunettes too.” He had to press his lips together to resist the urge to laugh as Garrett’s eyes slowly rounded out. “What? Bull likes to establish loans sometimes. It really works for all parties involved–”

Cullen started when the Champion of Kirkwall fled his brother, hands pressed over his ears while chanting something that sounded suspiciously like, “Not listening!” and, “You’re still a brat!”

On the other hand, Dorian had to muffle a chuckle of his own in a fist when Carver pitched himself onto the ground to laugh. He was certain that they would find out the reason behind it sooner rather than later. At least once their divine leader caught his breath.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Meet me upstairs -- five minutes."

Dorian hadn’t even realized that Cullen had entered the tavern, too caught up roar of laughter that had ensued after Sera had managed to chase Ares directly into the Iron Bull’s lap. He had stiffened at the heavy hand on his shoulder, but the voice at his ear had been familiar, sending a warmth through him that for once had nothing to do with the flagon in his hand.

“My rooms–five minutes.”

Cullen was gone by the time Dorian was able to turn around, yet that didn’t mean that the order didn’t still stand.

The battlements might have been dreadfully drafty this late into the season, but Cullen had a fire roaring in his rooms (had to with that horrible ceiling of his) and it was all too easy to forget the cold when wrapped up in blankets. Even easier, in fact, when covered by a broad expanse of chest.

There was something about Cullen that made Dorian feel safe, even though he knew he shouldn’t. Yet certainly he could allow himself some small pleasures, particularly tucked away in the loft.

So, for once, he didn’t try to smother his noises into Cullen’s skin or stop himself from digging his nails into the meat of the other man’s shoulders, knowing just how loudly it would make Cullen groan.

He knew he would never be allowed to keep this, not really, but he wasn’t above pretending in the moments when Cullen seemed loathed to let his mouth leave Dorian’s, refusing to let the man slip from his arms the whole time he pounded into him.

Yes, one day Cullen’s senses would return to him, yet until that time came, Dorian would be content to believe that Cullen wrapped around him once the pleasure passed, lips pressed to his forehead, for something more than fond familiarity.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Cullen eating gelato and spilling it on his shirt
> 
> That’s it
> 
> That’s the daily AU"
> 
> Or, a friend made a shit post, to which I shrugged, and said, "Alright, challenge accepted."

Josephine’s store wasn’t the easiest to find, what with people’s eyes tending to be drawn to the towering outlet stores that blocked it in. Yet the inside was naturally cozy in a way that the other stores in the area tried to manufacture. And, even better, the gelato was the best in the area.

Which was why Cullen found himself going in even on days when his lunch break didn’t afford him an excuse. He would put up with the jabs about how he would have to start letting his clothes out for that hit of salt among the caramel gelato or digging for the chocolate chips in stracciatella. 

Besides, for all Leliana’s teasing it wasn’t as though she wasn’t in just as often. Based on how determined she seemed to be to bring a blush onto Josephine’s cheeks this visit, however, Cullen was starting to think that it hadn’t been just the gelato and friendship that brought her here.

He wasn’t the only one who startled when the door slammed open, the bell above it jangling wildly, but it was just him who wound up with a good portion of his gelato smeared across his shirt as a result.

Which was why, of course, it had to be Dorian Pavus who had arrived with such flair. The man had opened a bookstore a little ways down from Cullen’s apartment building and it was fairly obvious that people went in to flirt with the man as much to admire his expansive collection of literature.

“Josephine, dazzling light of my life, please don’t make this the day you  _do_  cut me off. I had to spend the whole day not snapping at the gaggle of girls that come into the store just to giggle instead of buy anything. How am I supposed to make it through without one of your café gelato’s?”

Josephine shook her head, already giggling. “Well with a delivery like that, who I am to refuse?” Her skirts flounced as she turned to bring the expresso machine roaring to life.

“Oh really, Cullen.” Leliana snatched the napkins he was using to rub at his shirt. “Your apartment is not too far off, no? Simply change there and dose this in warm water with a hint of detergent. All will be well.”

“Your friend is quite right.” Because it only stood to reason that Dorian would notice him now of all times. “Although it is woefully easy to discover flannel nowadays. I’m sure you won’t be at a loss even if your shirt is.”

“Not all of us can pull off Tom Ford,” Cullen muttered. 

With his gaze still focused on his shirt he missed the way Dorian’s eyebrows rose at his accurate estimation. “I suppose so,” he said, “but I would give a good deal to see your lovely self kipped out in Armani.” He lifted his cup in a mock salute to Josephine before offering Cullen a wink on the way out.

Cullen wanted to claim that he had a better reason than that for letting Leliana dress him in clothes from her boutique, but given that Dorian actually walked directly into the counter at the sight of him, he figured it was a win either way.

Dorian scowled when he realized that Cullen was chuckling at him, but it soon cleared when the other man squeezed his shoulder. “I know it’s not actually Armani,” he said, “but would your number be included in that offer?”

“Well now.” Dorian chanced a quick once over, grinning slyly at the shiver it induced. “I can hardly leave you all dressed up with nowhere to go, can I?” 


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian angsty breakup

By all accounts, Dorian should have learned his lesson by now. Yet the habits of the south had lulled him into a false sense of security. People barely kicked up a fuss over one man holding hands with another here, let alone sharing a kiss.

In the rush of the novelty of it all, he had forgotten the basic rule of his country, no matter who were you attracted to–hand your heart out lightly and you will be burned each time.

There had been no reason for him to think that Cullen was different. Nothing except for how determinedly  _kind_  the man had been. There had been invitations up to his rooms for chess matches and shared dinner as much as for sex. And the Commander had even snuck more than his far of kisses up on the battlements.

Clearly that was all in the past now, however, if the way Cullen was sweeping Trevelyan across the balcony, suspiciously graceful for a man who claimed to know nothing about dancing. Their lovesick expressions had Dorian’s stomach turning before their lips even met.

So, truly, he felt little guilt at all in beckoning the first rugged, blond chevalier he could find and letting himself be taken against the nearest wall that could be found. He ignored the Inquisitor’s flustered concern when he rejoined the party more than somewhat bowlegged and flat out smacked Cullen’s hand away when the man tried to touch him.

He was the pariah, was he not? What right had something like he to aspire to love. 


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of a Cinderella AU

Dorian had little doubt that he would go mad by the end of the night if he wasn’t there already. Even mentally critiquing the outfits that paraded by did little to keep him entertained. Still, he had to be on his best behavior, smile fixed in place enough to leave his cheeks aching and at the ready to kiss whatever hand was offered to him.

The looming presence of Halward Pavus would accept nothing else, of course, and Dorian didn’t quite appreciate the thought of having his mother’s fingers at his ear either.

It was difficult not to remember, however, that the invitation to the ball had been for all those in the kingdom, no matter their rank. So, no matter how foolish, he kept expecting a head of familiar curls to appear at any given moment. And, for once, that wasn’t a pleasant thought.

Cullen had been the best sort of confidante outside of Felix. Loathe as he was to admit it, he would never have learned half as much without the other man guiding him throughout the city. He enjoyed his time with Cullen, even if some nights were spent with simply the two of them up in the hayloft with the stablehand’s lovingly worn chess board.

But Cullen couldn’t come to the ball. Not in the least because he didn’t know who Dorian truly was.

 

Yet Cullen had been pushing for more recently and not in the way that Dorian had hoped. The chastity of Cullen’s kisses had confused him and the gifts, ranging from wooden carvings to flowers from the marketplace, even more so. It wasn’t until Cullen tried to cautiously ask after his family that Dorian put the pieces together–he was being  _wooed_.

He hadn’t meant to respond to Cullen’s questions to harshly, especially not with the first hints of pink shooting across the sky, but the thought that the man might learn the truth had seemed even worse. But by the time he got home, his parents had already become enamored with the prospect of the ball, so planning had taken up all his nights since.

Felix insisted that he should just tell the truth as did Ambassador Josephine, yet surely it couldn’t be that simple. How could Cullen forgive him for demanding his trust only to lie to him for so long? Or be expected to tolerate the nobility that he rightfully turned his back on?

No, Dorian could only hope that he be allowed to play pretend for a little while longer.

“Lady Leliana, Nightingale of the Imperial Court.”

Dorian frowned, despite the disapproving cluck he could hear behind him from his mother. That title couldn’t be right. The only Leliana he knew was the accomplished musician who played in Cullen and his favorite tavern, always prepared to debate at length any facet of her stories and who always had the best gossip.

“And accompanying her, Cullen Stanton Rutherford.”

Dorian wasn’t entirely sure he could trust his eyes anymore. For it  _was_  Leliana at the top of the stairs, swathed in dove gray velvet with seed pearls glittering along the curve of her bust and within the confines of her hair. And on her arm was Cullen, who would have been the talk of the ballroom even without his lack of title. There was barely a wrinkle in the soft pale blue fabric of his shirt, even with the impressive expanse it had to cover, and the charcoal trousers were tailored to leave little to the imagination. The boots cut off at his knee, which, truly, had no right to seem as attractive as they were.  

He almost wondered, for a brief foolish moment, if he should feel jealous, yet Leliana offered him a curtsey as graceful as any trick he had seen her preform in the tavern before sweeping away to his ambassador to giggle and exchange hushed words.

Well, he was going to have to a word with Josephine later he supposed.

“Dorian?”

Dorian found himself scrambling for his sense of composure as he found himself snapping to attention with Cullen before him. “You aren’t about to tell me you’re a lord as well, are you?” He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “No, a commander of some kind. Far more suitable for a man like you.”

Cullen’s burst of laughter was a relief. “No, I’m afraid not.” He lifted his eyes to meet Dorian’s own, looking as tentative as Dorian felt. “But you are a prince.”

“Yes,” Dorian murmured. “And if you can’t… That is to say I would never force you to…” He was interrupted by a gentle squeeze on his wrist.

“That’s not what I meant,” Cullen said. “So long as you don’t mind that I’m a stablehand.”

“Of course not!” Dorian said. “It does wonders for your complexion, after all.”

“Good to know.” And Dorian just about swallowed his tongue when Cullen  _winked_ at him. “You left this behind last time, you know.” There was a ring in the palm of Cullen’s hand when he unfurled it, deceptively delicate and almost glasslike at first glance, yet sturdy to the touch.

“Oh.” Dorian brushed his fingertips over it, able to feel the familiar sparks against his skin. “It was meant for you, actually, as a gift before…” He swallowed hard. “It has a protection spell on it since  _someone_  keeps forgetting to take care of himself.”

“Is that so?” Cullen said. “I suppose you’ll just have to show me.”

“I do intend so.” Dorian plucked the ring from Cullen’s hand, not caring for the rising gasps as he placed it on the man’s finger before leading him out onto the dance floor. 

There would be questions enough to answer later and furious parents to stare down, but Dorian found himself feeling quite capable of anything with Cullen in his arms with the man he loved staring at him like he were capable of wrenching the sky from the heavens.

And, truly, for Cullen he would be more than willing to try.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen's mabari prefers Dorian.

At first, Cullen was somewhat upset, however foolish it sounded. Cassandra had after all selected the pup for him, hoping that it would give him some peace to have a companion. And yet the mabari had gotten one look at Dorian and leapt straight to the other man’s feet.

Yet for all the times Dorian complained about the slobber or finding fur  _everywhere_  nowadays, he made no other complaints to the little shadow that waddled after him, now baring the name of Caesar. The pup could be found sunning himself on the windowsill in Dorian’s nook in the library, never gnawing on any of the books, although he certainly wasn’t above barking at those who tried to take his owner’s books, much to Dorian’s delight. And whenever Dorian tried to reach for another bottle of wine that he didn’t need, it was to find Caesar’s head bumping under his hand and Cullen’s on top of it.

So, no, Cullen supposed he couldn’t really fault Caesar for imprinting elsewhere, especially when it meant Dorian smiled all the more now.

Still, he certainly wasn’t expecting Cole to emerge from the stables one day, cradling a kitten in his hands. 

“She didn’t like the horses,” the boy said. “Their hooves were too frightening and they were too loud. But you’re just right, quiet and soft like she is.”

Which was how Cullen found himself the distinctly proud owner of Brigid, who quickly decided that her favorite place was nestled in his fur collar, hissing at recruits for their errors. And while Cassandra might eye the feline askance every so often, Cullen found he slept much better when he awoke from a nightmare to find her curled up on chest, scratchy tongue on his face.

That Caesar would nestle in close to his feet and Dorian would wind his arms around him to get his lips somewhere on his face were simply the very best side effects. 


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giggly Kiss.
> 
> Or where Octavian manages to both terrify and delight his papa.

It had seemed the ideal plan at the start of the day. Cullen would look after Octavian during the day, leaving Dorian free to pursue some much needed research. The boy would be delighted to spend time with his “preferred” caretaker besides, so Dorian felt as though he were securing two good things in one.

But as the day progressed, he found the words swimming before his eyes, mind elsewhere.

The branches that snapped against the windows of the library in a near rhythm now were a clear herald that the warmer months–if there ever was such a thing in this climate–had come to an end. Cullen might think that Octavian would be fine, bundled up in his cloak, but even the fur lining might not be enough. Their boy tended to leak heat like a Tevinter born, always needing far more layers than expected.

And he couldn’t remember whether he had told Cullen about the shipment of oranges he had had specially ordered. (It wasn’t difficult to convince Josephine that something was needed when it came to their youngest member.) His nanny had always sworn by them for colds and Octavian had recently overcome quite a heavy one, which was all the  _more_  reason for him to be bundled up.

Dorian didn’t fling himself up from his chair, but it was a close thing. He only needed to break away for a quick check, just to assure himself that all was well, and then he could return to work.

Except his trip away found him at a training ground that held neither of the people he was looking for and left him barely waiting for the frantic recruit’s message before dashing into the main hall. There he found a quite happy Octavian, clinging to Cole’s fingers as he wobbled on his feet.

“He got busy,” Cole explained, “and he didn’t want Octavian to get scared by all the noise…or to try to eat the war map again. So he left him with me because he thought he’d be happy. And he is!”

Dorian dragged a hand across his face, trying not to let his frustration be too evident. “That’s all well and good, Cole, but I wish I had known before–”

He was interrupted by a cry of, “Papa!” and the patter of feet. Apparently Octavian had grown tried of waiting for his papa to notice him and decided to take action. Never mind that he had never  _walked_  before.

Dorian flailed down to the boy’s level, but Octavian merely dived into his legs with a giggle that became all the more delighted when he was scooped up. “Papa!” He pressed a smacking kiss to the tip of Dorian’s nose. “Love you!”

“He wanted to make you proud,” Cole said, “and to show you that you’re loved.” He patted Octavian’s head, smiling when the boy bounced back against the touch. “You did a very good job.”

“Indeed he did.” Dorian pressed a kiss to Octavian’s cheek, half to hide the tears building in his eyes, but mostly so that he could feel the thrum of his son’s feet kicking in delight against his chest. “Now what do you think your da will make of that trick?”

No one was upset when Octavian toddled into the war room, although Cullen’s reaction was by far the boy’s favorite since it came with kisses and being tossed into the air. Freyja came in at a close second, of course, since she slid him a bit of sugar as a reward.

The next day found him in the library with his papa, babbling away at a book plentiful with pictures while gnawing away at an orange.

(That he proudly pronounced Solas “Egg!” that morning was only an added benefit.) 


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired via this concept: http://redxluna.tumblr.com/post/130169776125/vintpavus-cullenkill-meis-it-just-me-whose
> 
> (But basically? Sex against Cullen's office door while the Commander struggles not to give away what's happening to those on the other side.)

Despite the jokes made of it, leading a force as mighty yet new as the Inquisition took a great deal of effort and ate up even more of his time. Knowing this was one thing, however, explaining it was another. Especially when it was to a person such as Dorian Pavus.

It was one thing for him to have to cancel a fair number of their chess games throughout the week or leave early when a messenger came running. Yet canceling the private meals they took together was quite another thing. So he supposed he really shouldn’t be surprised when he raised his head in the middle of a debriefing to find Dorian lounging against the wall, eyebrows raised in a careful indifference.

If he stumbled through the rest of the orders, at least none of the recruits would ever call notice to it. None of them looked surprised at the haste with which they were dismissed, however. 

“Truly, Dorian?” Cullen sighed, closing the door after the last solider had shuffled their way out. “I would have sent word once things were through, you know.” He shook his head when he didn’t receive a word in response, prepared to ask what he would have to do to regain Dorian’s good graces, yet instead he wound up with hands at his hips, spinning him backwards. Fortunately his reflexes won out over the dizziness, catching himself with both hands slamming flat against the door. “Dorian!”

“Shush.” Dorian’s voice was whisper soft as his fingers worked at the ties of Cullen’s trousers. “You don’t know who could be lingering on the other side of that door, do you? Some doe eyed recruit just waiting to catch a word with the handsome Commander.” The nip he landed at Cullen’s neck turned the man’s snort into a gasp. “Unless you want them to know just how desperate of a man you truly are.”

“Is that so?” Cullen pressed back against Dorian once his clothes were out of the way, enjoying the mage’s choked groan as much as the slide of hardened flesh. “I think you might have the two of us confused, Lord Pavus.”

He supposed he deserved the slow press and spread of Dorian’s fingers after that, but to have Dorian match the pace was once he slid inside was torture.

“Oh dear,” Dorian remarked, watching Cullen’s fingers curl agains the wood. “Is there a problem, amatus?”

“D–Dorian.” Cullen grit his teeth around a sharp thrust, shaking his head. “Please, I need  _more_.”

“I suppose I can manage that,” Dorian purred, “but only if you stay  _very_  still.”

The order seemed easy enough to follow until Dorian began to move in earnest, leaving Cullen shaking down to his knees. Yet he would pause nearly altogether whenever Cullen would have to shift to reorient himself, almost as though it were a kindness. 

He flat out whimpered when Dorian finished first, fingers curling through his hair. Yet there was a hand wrapping around his straining erection before long and another tugging his hair back to get at his neck. Although it only took him a few pumps to spill over Dorian’s hand, he was more than certain that he would have an impressive number of love bites.

“So, amatus,” Dorian said, “are you going to tell me how much of this you arranged for?”

“Only part of it, really.” Cullen hooked a smile over his shoulder. “But I’m hardly about to argue the results.”

Dorian dropped his face downwards, his laughter vibrating through Cullen’s shoulder. “And people think  _I’m_  the wicked one.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You don’t have to worry, I’m never going to touch you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Dorian is unaware that Cullen is trans and therefore misgenders him by accident at first

Dorian didn’t know what he had expected to happen. All he did know was that, regardless of their circumstances, it was something that needed to be addressed. It was up to his future bride whether it came across as an insult or a comfort.

A Tevinter woman would have taken it as the former, rallying against him in every possible way. Yet Cullen was far harder to read. All that followed was a furrow of the brow and a slight downward twitch to the corners of her lips before she collapsed down into one of the ornate chairs. 

“I don’t see how that matters,” she said. “You wouldn’t know how to anyway.”

It was foolish, of course, but Dorian had never backed down from pursuing a challenge and it stung at his pride to imagine there was one he couldn’t find a way around. “Perhaps not in the finer principals,” he admitted, “but from what I’ve heard it’s all a rather straightforward venture.” He waved his hand in an absent arc. “It’s of little matter, regardless. I won’t take offense to you taking lovers more educated about a woman’s body than myself. We will simply have to find a way of keeping it from watchful eyes.”

“That’s not right,” Cullen muttered.

Dorian’s brows arched upwards. “It might not be under  _their_  rules,” he said, “but there is no reason for us to suffer for the sake of honor. Plenty of women do it here, even those that claim to be happily married–”

Cullen slammed her hand down on the table, effectively numbing Dorian’s tongue for once. “But I’m not a woman!” She paused, widening eyes lingering on the overturned cups and skewed platters, as if realizing just how sharp her outburst had been. There was a flare of color across her cheeks before she buried her face in her hands. “I’m not.”

Dorian would be lying if he said he recovered from that easily. Instead he stood there, no doubt looking the idiot, as his mind scrambled to review all the facts. Including the stories about how his bride had had to be recovered. How his mother had clucked her tongue over how barbaric the South had to be to make their woman feel as though they had to disguise themselves as men to join their silly Templar Order.

_Oh_.

“I didn’t… That is to say…” Dorian sighed, dropping down to one knee at his betrothed’s side so that he could look up at Cullen. “I should have known better. I have a friend, Maevaris, and she’s…well…she is quite the same and…”

Cullen seemed to take pity on Dorian, lowering her… _his_ hands to end the rambling. “I… Could I meet her?”

“I don’t see why not,” Dorian said. “She’s been clambering to meet you all but since you arrived.” His smile was a little more certain when Cullen blushed again. He reached out for Cullen’s hand, relief easing out his next breath when he didn’t pull away. “I might not know all that I should, but I am willing to learn.” 

Cullen’s smile was small, but it was also the first one Dorian had seen since his betrothed had been dragged to Tevinter. And when he raised Dorian’s hand to his mouth to press a kiss to his knuckles, Dorian felt as though all the breath had been knocked from his lungs. “That is more than enough.”


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barebacking/Cullen and Dorian's first time together.

It had been quite some time since Dorian had been able to take his time. Fulfillment was to be reached within hidden spaces with each party hurrying away afterwards, doing one’s best to cover love bites and disguise the slight bow to your walk.

But now there was Cullen, who asked through stammers and the most adorable to court him. Although he could admit it unkind now, Dorian had said yes on a whim, fully expecting the commander to break from intentions sooner rather than later.

Except Cullen seemed immune to even his best charms. There were flowers pressed into his favorite books and the assortment of tea that had been tucked into alcove took the place of his assortment of wine without him even realizing.

Dorian felt like an utter fool when he realized how smitten he had become, but, well, that was around when Cullen began to cast him looks that broke his heart with their warmth and bestowed kisses upon him that stole his breath away. So, truth be told, he was quite alright with letting go.

Which was exactly why he should have known better towards his expectations in the bedroom.

“Cullen,” he ground out, breath hitching as the man unfurled another finger, “that’s enough I’m ready!”

Cullen hummed in idle contemplation, trailing his lips along the line of Dorian’s spine. The mage didn’t think he imagined the curve of a smile when he arched back towards the touch either. “Perhaps you are, but I am determined to savor a treat such as this.” He headed off another of Dorian’s complaints by rubbing his fingers against the man’s prostrate, chuckling at the string of curses he got instead.

It would have been easier for Dorian if the touches were at least rough with Cullen manhandling him into position, but instead he was handled as though he were a treasure in truth with Cullen relying a simple tap or nip to the flesh to remind him to keep position.

He didn’t even realize that he had begun to tremble until Cullen was pressing his lips to the center of his shaking shoulders and there was a gentle hand stroking over his hip.

“If you want me to stop…”

“No!” Dorian shook his head near violently before muttering a quieter, “No.” He swallowed hard. “I simply don’t understand why you’re bothering with all this?”

“To make it clear.” Cullen pulled his fingers free from Dorian, quieting the man’s mewl of discontent with a squeeze of his hips. “There won’t be another after this. Not in my bed or yours. I won’t allow it.”

Dorian laughed, yet it came out strained, more close to broken than he would have liked. “That’s a pretty picture.”

Cullen’s sigh landed right by his ear, making Dorian shudder against the rush of cool air. “You fool,” the commander muttered. “I love you.”

Any thoughts Dorian might have had on that were shattered the instant Cullen pressed inside him. He was aware of the man tangling his fingers with his own the other hand gripping onto his hip to keep him steady against each thrust.

It felt entirely too good to feel Cullen spill inside him, grunting his completion into his ear, feeling warmer than he had since stepping foot in the South.

Cullen didn’t even bother to pull away as Dorian began to rut against the bed, simply taking his teeth to the mage’s neck, chasing away the sting of each bite with another kiss.

Dorian was fairly sure he cried out when he came at last, yet he barely had it in him to care. Not when he had Cullen to pull into a kiss and the man’s arms firmly wound around him.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian refuses to believe that Cullen works as a sex operator until given actual proof.
> 
> (Coming in one's pants.)

It was hard to know just what to make of Cullen Rutherford. Cassandra had introduced the man to their regular pub nights with her usual charm, which meant all anyone really got was that the man was an old friend from back in the military before Varric had her scoffing in disgust again.

The man himself was of few words, the soft rumble of his voice typically getting lost in the roar of others anyway. It was his expressions that were the most fascinating to watch, from the crumple of his brow when focusing over the cards in his hands, the tip of his tongue curling around his upper lip or the way he would blush when Josephine would win yet again. 

Honestly, it would take a bigger man (metaphorically speaking) than Dorian not to wonder whether that blush traveled all the way down.

It wasn’t until the start of the second week of the acquaintance that Dorian even heard what Cullen did for a living. Sera had managed to drink herself under the table again, giggling as she fired off texts to her “widdle” while Bull had commandeered the dart board with his crew the Chargers. Best of luck to anyone who tried to get in the middle of that makeshift tournament. 

Cassandra was off bickering, half tipsy with Varric about his contemplations for his next book while Leliana and Josephine were spending the latter’s hard earned winnings on brightly colored drinks and gossiping away at the bar.

Which made it all too perfect an opportunity for Dorian to do what he did best–be a nuisance.

“So…” Dorian smiled, slow and sly, when Cullen glanced over at him. “You never did tell us what you did for a living.”

“Didn’t I?” Cullen rubbed at the back of his neck. “Well that’s because I… Well, you see…” He sighed, the arch of his cheeks tinged pink. “I work at a sex line.”

Dorian managed two long, slow blinks before his mind kicked back into gear. “You mean running repairs or updating the website or…” He trailed off, taking in Cullen’s flat expression. “No way, you can’t be serious.”

Cullen frowned, brow furrowing. “Why can’t I be?”

“Because you’re…” Dorian gestured rather hopelessly to all that was Cullen. “You blush at  _all_  of Bull’s innuendos, even the ones that are puns! And you stammer whenever a waitress flirts with you!”

Cullen stared down into his mug of beer for so long that Dorian was afraid he had actually offended him. He all but swallowed his tongue, however, when Cullen raised his eyes at last, gaze gone dark with intent. “Let me prove it to you then.”

“Oh?” Dorian said. “And how do you intend to do that?”

His knee slammed against the bottom of the table hard enough to make the drinks bounce when he felt a hand sliding along the upper curve of his thigh. He would have snapped something out were not for the gust of warm breath against his ear.

“Come on, you don’t want to give us away so soon.” A kiss landed against Dorian’s ear as he forced himself to remain still. “Now there’s a good boy.”

Dorian took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly through his nose. “Have me all figured out, do you?”

There was no sane reason for a chuckle to sound that sensual. “I think I might,” Cullen said, “if just a little.”

“That so?” Dorian tossed back. “Let’s see what you  _think_  you’ve discovered then.”

“See?” Cullen said. “That’s meant to get worked up.”

“I could have told you that,” Dorian snorted.

“True,” Cullen said, “but you’re less ready to admit that you do it so that someone will just hold you down and  _take_  you.” He sighed when Dorian tensed, thumb running a soothing circle against his thigh. “I don’t know who taught you to go about it that way, but they were a fool.”

Dorian was a little too far gone to give much care to the way his voice croaked out of his throat. “Is that so?” 

“Of course. A man like you…” Cullen huffed out a laugh. “You deserve to be savored, learned. Taken apart bit by bit to discover what makes you squirm the most. For example…” His fingers dug into Dorian’s leg as he leaned closer. “Would you prefer to have your ass eaten out first or your cock sucked?” He didn’t seem put out when Dorian opted for groaning instead of answering. “It’d hardly be a let down to try for both.”

Dorian reached out to snag his hand around the soft fabric of Cullen’s ridiculous sweater. Perhaps the movement was too obvious, but it didn’t seem as though anyone had looked their way yet. “And what if I demanded that you fuck me instead?”

The arch of Cullen’s brow was about as infuriating as his smirk. “I’d tell you it wasn’t happening until you begged.”

“Greater men than you have tried,” Dorian scoffed. His breath caught in his throat when Cullen caught the tip of his ear between his teeth, however.

“Other men didn’t have you over their knee.”

At first Dorian mistook the warmth pooling low in his gut as Cullen dragging him close to the edge again. He certainly wasn’t expecting to topple all the way over it right there in the bar with Cullen’s mouth pressed to his neck and his hand rubbing softly against his pants.

“So?” And how could Cullen possibly smile so brightly after all that? “Do you believe me now?”

“I don’t know.” Dorian tugged the other man downwards so that he could press a kiss to the corner of that no good mouth. “The lesson may have to be repeated. Thoroughly.”

Cullen turned his head to kiss him proper. “Let me buy you dinner first and you have yourself a deal, Pavus.”


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You can stay but the clothes must go."
> 
> Dorian meets Cullen when the boy has been sold into Leliana's brothel to help provide for his family.

Dorian could understand, after a fashion, why Felix would have arranged for this. The boy standing before him wasn’t what he typically snagged to his side within the walls of such an establishment. He certainly wasn’t a lithe elf, after all, capable of returning all of Dorian’s snark in kind or a brute, Qunari or human, capable of holding him down and simply  _taking_.

There was something sinfully earnest about the lad– _Cullen_ , that was what Felix had hissed into his ear earlier. Someone had made an attempt to style his hair with spiced oils, yet even now a gold curl slipped free, brushing against surprisingly sculpted cheekbones. He seemed determined to hold Dorian’s gaze when he met it, coppery eyes determined for all the nervousness there.

“I…” His Adam’s apple bobbed under the force of his swallow. “Have I done something to displease you, sir?”

“Certainly not.” Dorian propped himself up better on the ludicrous arrangement of pillows, the pad of his thumb skating over the scar that cut across a truly lovely mouth. There was no way to keep from smiling at the way such a simple touch made Cullen inhale sharply either. “You can stay, but your clothes must go.”

Cullen nodded agreeably enough, yet Dorian found himself frowning as he took in the way the boy’s hand shook harder as each garment was removed. His mounting assumptions were made all the worse when he raised a hand to stop Cullen once the boy reached the gauzy final layer only to have Cullen start at the motion.

“Cullen…” He sighed before patting the space next to him. Cullen settled down with all the grace of a mabari, curling his limbs away from Dorian until the man used his arm to drag him in close. “Are you a virgin?” He figured the instant tension of the body pressed against him was answer enough. “Then why are you–”

“My family.” Cullen blushed when he realized that he had interrupted a  _client_ , yet even that wasn’t enough to keep the words from spilling out. Just how long had the boy had to keep this all inside himself? “Da had an accident on the farm. Rosalie is helping Ma around the house and Branson can tend the land, but with Mia underfoot and…” His words eased off as he began to register the circles that Dorian’s hand was making across his back, along with the humming that was coming from the altus. 

“Of course,” he muttered. Leliana had a tender heart, for all her intimidating presence, so Dorian wasn’t surprised that she had found a place for Cullen. Especially not with as soft a soul as Josephine running the brothel with her. “I don’t expect anything from you tonight.” He shushed Cullen’s protests with a lingering kiss to the top of his head. “Shush. Tell me about your family.”

There was something strangely comforting about watching Cullen gradually unwind in his arms, face flushed with true warmth as he described his siblings antics. Dorian was unsure how he was ever meant to want to let the boy go.

And that, perhaps, had been precisely Felix’s plan.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”
> 
> Cullen starts to realize that Octavian isn't just his responsibility.

The first few times it happened Cullen had his hands too full for such a seemingly small detail to matter. They were fleeing from Haven, unsure at that point if Lavellan had even survived, and Octavian, meanwhile, had been greatly aware that his parents had not been fortunate enough to. Tensions had been high regardless, but it was made even harder with a baby who seemed a breath away from crying at any given time and Cullen feeling helpless to help at every turn.

Back then a handful of idle glances from a mage, Tevinter or not, were too small of point to matter.

As everyone settled into Skyhold, however, it became a different matter. His duties didn’t even take him close to Dorian often, but whenever he left his office it seemed that the hair on the back of his neck would prick up. Octavian served as an even better alert system, bouncing up in Cullen’s hold whenever he saw Dorian so that he could offer up a gummy smile.

It never failed to make Dorian smile just a little as well, despite how he tried to hide it, and Cullen had to admit that the sight of that alone made it all a little more worth it.

Still, the last place he expected it all to come to a head was the makeshift nursery that had been fashioned for Octavian. It had warmed the weariness in Cullen’s bones to hear Octavian’s deep little belly laughs as he drew closer, but it was more than a bit of surprise to discover that it was Dorian that was causing it.  

And yet Cullen couldn’t find it in himself to be as spooked as he no doubt should be. Not when Dorian had a more open expression than he had ever seen, beaming with unabashed delight as he tickled Octavian’s rounded tummy before catching a flailing foot to do the same there.

Instead Dorian was the one that spooked, rising to his feet so fast he almost stumbled over them when he saw Cullen. “Excuse me, I was just… I meant no harm, so I would really prefer if you didn’t…” He cut himself off with a flinch when Octavian began to whimper, little hands grabbing at the air above his cradle as if to summon his playmate back. “Oh, come now, there’s no need for that.”

Cullen bent down to scoop Octavian up, chuckling at the grumpy face he received for not being the ordered party. “There’s no need to apologize.” He shot a quick glance at Dorian before shifting his hold just a little. “Here.”

Dorian’s eyes narrowed for a brief moment, as though he were trying to figure out whether or not Cullen was trying to trick him. “I really couldn’t.” His eyebrows rose, however, when Octavian wiggled in Cullen’s arms, squeaking as he stuck out his hands again. He took the child as if he were something that could break apart at any moment, not seeming to understand how Octavian could snuggle towards him so easily.

“I’ve seen you watching us.” Cullen sighed when Dorian tensed. “I’m not offended by it and I know you’re not a threat to him. I just wondered why.”

Dorian was quiet for a long moment, rocking back and forth until Octavian’s face scrunched up in a yawn, eyes fluttering closed. “His parents gave him to me,” he murmured. “They wanted me to get him to the Chantry. She had just given birth you see and it would take her longer to move. They were so determined to keep him safe, even at the cost of their own…” He shook his head. “I…I named him before giving him over to Mother Giselle. I hope they won’t mind.”

“I think they would be honored.” Cullen pretended not to notice how wet Dorian’s snort was for the sake of the man’s pride, fingers tracing over the flat, downy curls that had already formed on Octavian’s head. “And I know he would want you here too.”

“And what about his papa?” Dorian asked.

“I’m hardly that,” Cullen remarked wryly. “You care for him and he clearly feels the same for you. How can I deny him that?”

Dorian shook his head, strangely incredulous. “See?” he said. “Keep that attitude up and you’ll already be a better father than many.”


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?”
> 
> Dorian misreads Cullen's relationship with the Inquisitor rather spectacularly.

It wasn’t that the Commander didn’t have a sense of humor. Dorian had heard enough of his startling if rather dry wit to understand that. But it was always aimed at others with his small smiles, packed with enough warmth to knock you breathless, reserved for Trevelyan alone.

What Dorian got were frowns of concentration as Cullen surveyed the arrangement of the pieces still on the board or a roll of eyes whenever he caught Dorian out for cheating.

That was until he was describing his recent bout with Mother Giselle, one that the Inquisitor himself had had to intervene with, when he was abruptly interrupted by a deep, rumble of laughter.

His eyebrows must have been approaching his hairline when he raised his head, but it was Cullen’s cheeks that were bright red, a gloved hand pressed to his mouth.

“Apologies,” the Commander said, “but did you…” He shook his head, another batch of chuckles breaking loose. “Did you really tell her about the credit your tongue gets you?”

“Well certainly not in  _detail_.” Dorian offered up a rather saucy wink. “But for you I could be convinced, Commander.”

He was quite sure the tips of Cullen’s ears were actually pink now, but he was actually  _grinning_  and that was enough to give Dorian a reckless, soaring sort of feeling. “Is that so?”

Dorian had a whole fleet of perfect rebuttals lined up for that, but, of course, that was the moment when the crunching of leaves had to announce another arrival. And just like that Cullen was leaning back in his chair, turning to bestow the full weight of his fondness upon Karl Trevelyan.

“Inquisitor,” he said. “Did you have need of me?”

“Of sorts.” There was a wry touch to Karl’s voice. “Leliana received an interesting set of letters from…well I’m pretty sure at least one of them referred to themselves as the Rutherford  _brood_.”

“That would be Branson,” Cullen sighed. He rose from the table, casting an apologetic glance at Dorian. “Another time?”

“Of course.” Dorian wasn’t sure whether or not he even wanted Cullen to recognize the flatness in his tone, but it still stung when the other man walked away. He bit the inside of his cheek to hold back sigh, casting his eyes up at Karl. “I don’t suppose you’d care for a game, Inquisitor?”

Karl was still staring back the way Cullen had gone, but when he turned his gaze on Dorian he found himself pinned under the intensity of it. “You know he doesn’t feel like… _that_ …towards me, don’t you?“ He rocked back and forth on his feet. “He’s…proud of me. Or at least that’s what I think it is. He remembers my father, you see. Not Lord Trevelyan, but my actual…” He sighed. “Well you already know. He wasn’t able to stop what happened to him, actually apologized for it and everything. So I guess looking out for me, making sure I succeed is his way of trying to repent.”

Dorian cleared his throat, trying to break the tension that had descended thick over them. Discussing murdered fathers had a way of doing that. “And you are telling me all this because…?”

“Because if one of you doesn’t kiss the other all of Skyhold might actually go mad.” Karl was grinning at the sight of Dorian gaping, shaking off the shadows of his past all at once. “Come on, if you do it soon, I might actually win the bet.”

“Little minx.” It was hard not to smile when Karl danced away from his attempted swat, however, laughing all the way. “If this doesn’t work I expect full access of that wine cellar you keep collecting for.”

*

Fortunately (and expected at least to everyone save the two oblivious men) the wine bottles were given over in celebration instead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's any curiosity, Karl is the son of Karl Thekla (given the same name). Cullen, like with so many other things, shoulders a good deal of guilt on himself for not protecting Thekla from being made Tranquil. So he tries to protect the son as a way to make up for it (at least at first).


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Dorian felt decidedly grumpy when he was stirred towards consciousness by the sensation of something cold and wet sliding across his forehead. Surely the roof in his room couldn’t have sprung a leak? Despite it’s grandeur he was well aware that repairs to Skyhold had been slow, so it was entirely possible that some ages hold crack in the ceiling had finally decided it had had enough.

And yet he was fairly sure he hadn’t returned to his room last night. He had been too deep into research to abandon it outside of a few brief stances of sleep in his chair. He had barely even finished the cup of tea that Solas had offered for breakfast. Cullen was supposed to bring lunch for them to share but…

But Cullen was supposed to bring lunch.

Dorian cracked his eyes open at last, finding it himself staring up at a decidedly grumpy commander. “Now, now.” He managed a weak smile. “What have I done to receive such a welcome.”

“You fainted.” Cullen sighed as he set aside the cloth he had apparently been dabbing Dorian’s head with. “Straight into my arms.”

“Ah.” Dorian winced a little as he sat up, prodding at his forehead with tender fingers. “I must have wanted your attention then.” He yelped as he found himself being lifted up into the air. “I’m fine! There’s no need to take me to the healers.”

“I know.” Cullen sighed, but he made no sign of being prepared to let Dorian go, walking towards the staircase down instead. “One already came to see you…and Solas suggested that it was your lack of sleep  _and_  food that was the cause.”

“Damn him,” Dorian grumbled. “If I can just sit for awhile I can return to research and then–”

Cullen cut him off with a lingering kiss, nipping gently at Dorian’s bottom lip. “Or you can rest in the loft while I work and when you awaken you can do your research in bed.  _After_  dinner.”

“Only if you join me in bed after the reports are done,” Dorian said.

“You might not get any research done then,” Cullen warned.

Dorian hummed, pressing a kiss to the patch of skin right behind Cullen’s ear and smirking when he felt the shiver that ran through the man. “Oh, only if you do your job very well, Commander.”


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High school Dorian and Cullen, first time, especially if it's at Dorian's house, and he's worried about his parents finding out/coming home.

Dorian had never had another boy in his room, who was too much a brother to count. All of his previous interactions of this nature had happened crammed into the nearest storage closet (yes, he was aware of the irony of that) or empty classroom.

He had managed to smuggle Cullen in under the guise of a sleepover. Father would never have agreed, but he was away at yet another conference and all his mother ever needed was the promise that they wouldn’t make enough noise to disturb her. Which, with a house their size and the wine his mother was sure to indulge in, would have been quite the feat anyway.

Cullen tossed his stuff onto the pull out couch, laughing as Dorian dragged back to bed by the loops of his jeans. “So I take it I’m not  _actually_  sleeping in the guest bed then?”

“Heavens no!” Dorian chuckled. “We’ll mess it up come morning and that will be that.” He hesitated for a moment, teeth dragging over his bottom lip. “Provided your alright with that, of course. I wouldn’t want to force you into–”

“Dorian.” And there was nothing like being under the full force of Cullen’s warm smile to bring him up short. “You suggested your plans for tonight on Monday, so I’ve had a whole week to think about sucking your dick. Trust me when I say I’m not feeling forced into anything.”

Dorian’s mouth went dry all at once, but that was hardly enough to stop him from being clever. “I’m impressed,” he said. “No stuttering?”

Cullen snorted, rolling his eyes. “The night is still young. I’m sure we’ll get there sooner or later. But first…”

Dorian’s next breath left in a hiss when Cullen’s fumbling fingers finally managed to get the button of his jeans undone. He certainly wasn’t above wiggling his hips to help the other boy lower them down either.

At least until a pointed rap on the door caused them both to freeze in their tracks, eyes gone wide.

“Dorian?” Of course, Aquinea simply had to be struck by a bout of maternal feelings  _now_  of all times. “Do you or your friend need anything for the night?”

Dorian had to clear his throat at least one to level his voice back to a somewhat normal pitch. “Uh…no, thank you, Mother, we’re quite alright.”

“If you say so,” his mother said. “I’ll leave the light on the kitchen, regardless. I know how young boys can be. Good night!” She was at least too far gone with her initial round of drinks to notice that her son grumbled his own good night back.

Dorian definitely wasn’t above swatting at Cullen’s head when he continued to shake with laughter into his thigh, however. “Enough of that!” he snapped, determinedly ignoring how hot his ears were. “She’s gone now, you know.”

“True.” The grin that Cullen leveled up at him was entirely out of character for just how wicked it is. “But it’ll still be best to at least  _try_  to be quiet. Just in case she comes back.”

Dorian was prepared to tell Cullen just how unlikely that was, but that was also the moment that his boyfriend decided to start licking at his cock and rational thought rightfully fled from him at that point.

It was rather clear that Cullen hadn’t done this before, yet even that was a rush in and of itself. Besides, he learned quickly, angling towards whatever made Dorian twitch the most. Although his tendency to halt whenever Dorian grew too loud was more than a little bit infuriating.

“Cullen, if you don’t…” He tangled his fingers in the other boy’s hair, tugging up to get Cullen’s attention. Except that was clearly a mistake–at least of some sort–since what did instead was cause Cullen to flat out groan around his cock. “F–Fuck.”

Cullen blinked, seeming far too innocent with the sweat letting his curls roll against reddened cheeks. And it only got worse when he decided to  _hum_.

Dorian would have uttered some sort of warning if he hadn’t blacked out rather spectacularly. Yet he still felt a rush of guilt when he saw the state of Cullen’s face, even though it was more than a little bit hot to watch the other boy try to lick it all from his lips. And it only got worse when Cullen decided to speak.

“It’s alright. I wanted it.” He paused, brow furrowing. “Although next time can it be inside of me?”

“I don’t see why not.” Cullen outright whimpered when Dorian pulled him up via the hand still tangled in his hair for a kiss. “We’ve got a long weekend ahead of us after all.”


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things you said that i wish you hadn't

It had begun with a blind date that had gone surprisingly well. Dorian was even somewhat touched that Cullen had asked for a second date instead of simply indulging in what both of them were clearly all too prepared for. That said date happened at the park was only even more impossibly sweet. Especially since insisted on bringing bagged bits of bread to feed the ducks with.

Most of their time was spent talking, however, which lead to Cullen offering his bag to a little girl who was becoming weepy at her parents’ side over not being able to feed the poor duckies.

“You’re good with them,” he remarked.

“Who? Kids?” Cullen rubbed at the back of his neck. “Well, I mean it’s not that hard.”

Dorian snorted, shaking his head. “I do hope you’re joking,” he said. “Children are terrors at best.”

He wasn’t prepared at all for the way Cullen’s face shut down, voice turning flat. “My son isn’t.”

Oh. Oh,  _fuck_.

“I… Well I didn’t…” Dorian sighed. “I should have one by now–would have if my parents had their way.” He shook his head. “It’s a rather daunting task, being responsible for a life in such a way. And… Well suffice to say I’ve already seen how horribly one can damage a child.”

Cullen was silent for a long time and then a shoulder knocked against Dorian’s own. “You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he said. “You’re not whoever your parents were.”

Dorian’s mouth twisted. “One can only hope.” He shot Cullen a hesitant glance. “Tell me what he’s like? Or what his favorite sweet at the very least. I can at least get that right.”

The good humor had returned to Cullen’s face once more, flooding Dorian with relief. “Bart would probably ask for a book instead,” he admitted, “if he had the chance.”

That was able to wrangle a true smile out of Dorian. “A boy after my own hear then,” he said. He turned to toss the bread into the nearest trash can. “Come along, I require your expertise.” 


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things you said when you were crying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: everything works out alright in the end, but there's mentions of a very sick child and the fears around that

Octavian rarely got sick. There were the simple things, such as the colds that would result in a red nose gone sore from sneezing and watery eyes or the times when he would come running to one of them after a tumble gone wrong. But, honestly, he was a robust child, hardly ever giving his parents any reason to worry about his health.

Which, perhaps in foresight, was why when he did fall under it was so severe.

It had begun when a group of plague victims had come to seek asylum. Vivienne had advocated pointing them to another doorstep and she hadn’t been the only one to do so, but Adaar wouldn’t hear of it. Proper precautions had to be taken, of course, but outright abandonment wasn’t on the table.

Everything progressed fine at first, despite some misgivings. Those in need were given their own area, secluded from the regular bustle of Skyhold, with a small team of healers to care for them.

But a week later, Octavian refused to rise from bed when his parents called to him. And entering his room found him a pale mess of sweat, each breath coming laboriously.

It was only then that a weeping, trembling Hissera explained that she and Octavian had wanted to find a way to help those suffering. So they had crept down together in the middle of the night, sneaking in to distribute blankets and food.

Dorian hadn’t wanted to rage against a child, especially not when he knew that she would be facing down a harsh talking to from both Adaar and Iron Bull soon enough. Yet he couldn’t help wondering why it had to Octavian, especially if another had ventured down with him. And that thought had been enough to make truly sick with himself.

The healers assured them that Octavian was fortunate, having only caught a weaker branch of the plague. But that hadn’t made things easier by any stretch of the imagination.

He was still rarely fully conscious and even when he was he kept being seized by delusions, calling out for the parents that were already at his side with increasing desperation or, worse, for the ones that were no longer among the living. He kept coughing up fluid, which he was instructed to spit out whenever he could, but Dorian was simply glad that it hadn’t turned to blood yet.

He jumped all the same when Cullen placed a hand on his shoulder, though.

“You’ve been at it for the whole day,” Cullen said. “I’m sure he won’t begrudge you spending the night in your own bed.”

“I would.” Dorian was hardly aware of the fact that the hand holding the slick miniature one was trembling. “This isn’t a time for me to think of my own comfort.” He swallowed hard, eyes stinging. “What if it happens in the middle of the night… What if I manage to sleep through him…”

“It won’t.” Cullen smoothed the tears from his cheeks with the pad of his thumb, pressing a firm kiss to his forehead. “That won’t happen, Dorian.”

Still, Dorian passed a fitful night, dozing in Cullen’s lap at one of the chairs placed at Octavian’s bedside.

Which was just as well because when dawn broke, Octavian was tugging on the hand that had never let go of his own. “Papa?” he asked. “If you came to read me a story can I have breakfast first? I’m really hungry.”


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things you said after you kissed me 
> 
> (linked to "things i wished you hadn't said")

Dorian wasn’t sure what the number of dates had wrung up to by the time Cullen finally let him drive the other man home and, quite honestly, he didn’t much care. It was decidedly hard to concentrate when you had a man like Cullen Rutherford kissing his way up your neck then wreaking the same sort of havoc on your mouth.

He just wasn’t expecting Cullen to mutter, “Shit,” when they pulled apart.

“Did I do something wrong?” Dorian asked. “Or, well, right, in this case?”

“No. I mean, yes! I just…” Cullen groaned as Dorian chuckled at him. “It’s only that I think we might have woken up—”

The front door sprung open, light spilling everywhere. Dorian saw Josephine first, rushing to get to the door, but then his eyes dropped, taking in the small figure that had caused the action in the first place.

“Hello.” The boy tugged at the bottom of his over sized sweater, trying to stand as tall as his little frame would allow. “I’m very sorry for interrupting, but are you Dorian?”

Dorian swallowed hard, trying to remind himself that it was foolish to be afraid of someone so miniature and, all things considered, entirely too adorable. “I suppose I am,” he said. “Is that a problem?”

“Oh no!” Bart blushed about as easily as his father did apparently. “I just wanted to thank you for the book you got me. It was super pretty!” He ducked his head, toeing at the floor with a socked foot. “I drew you a picture for it, if that’s okay.”

“Okay?” Dorian said. “I feel honored.” And it actually surprised him that, staring down into Bart’s beaming face, that was exactly what he felt.

“Can I show you then?” Bart reached out to snag hold of Dorian’s gloved hand. “Please, Da, please, please!”

Dorian could see how hesitant Cullen was, eyes darting from his boyfriend to his child and back again, so he decided to make the decision as clear as could be. “Please?” he said. “I can even make a somewhat decent breakfast come morning if you let me say.”

Cullen shook his head, already laughing, before bending to scoop Bart up. “I’ll take care of the breakfast,” he said, “but I’m afraid Bart might not let you go for most of the night.”

Dorian reached out to ruffle familiar golden curls on a far smaller head, baffled at the way the boy grinned at him. “I… I can’t see how that would be a problem.”


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things you said too quietly

Dorian saunters away from the chess table to answer the Inquisitor’s call. “I love him,” Cullen whispers. And the acknowledgement brings a dawning horror because just what is he supposed to do about that?

*

Cullen knows that Dorian is asleep, can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath his hand. It’s how he knows that it’s safe to say, “I love you,” before drifting off himself.

*

Cullen insists on seeing Dorian off at the gates of Skyhold, hiding his tears in the man’s shoulder. He’s not sure whether to feel disappointed or not that Dorian doesn’t catch his words, asking instead, “What was that, _amatus_?”

Cullen forces a smile, hiding the lie in a kiss. “I said good luck.”

*

Lavellan delivers the note privately, which perhaps should have been the first sign of worry. Cullen waits until she’s slunk away at long last to tear his office apart, fingers lingering on the crystal that he can’t bring himself to destroy, even though it’s not worthless.

“But I loved him,” he gasps out in despair to no one.

*

Time has stretched far and wide by the time Cullen sits down on the other side of a chess board again. And this time his smile is wide and true as he looks up into wide eyes.

“My name is Cullen Rutherford and yours is Dorian Pavus. And I love you.” 

 

 


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things you said under the stars and in the grass
> 
> (high school au)

The whole thing was so alarmingly quaint that Dorian was torn between being appalled and, strangely enough, touched. Having a picnic under the stars was something that happened in storybooks, not real life. Except here Cullen was, spreading a quilt out across the grass of the park and although he didn’t have a basket he did have a collection of convenience store bags full of junk food that Dorian was never allowed to have and subsequently loved.

He sat down on the blanket with a laugh that he didn’t want to admit was at least half nervous. “Did you really bring me out to look at the stars?” His stomach dropped out when Cullen’s face fell. “Not that there’s anything wrong with—”

“There’s supposed to be shooting stars tonight,” Cullen said, “but until then…” He pointed up to the sky, towards a line of three stars. “That’s Orion.” He turned towards Dorian, already smiling again. “Do you know any?”

“Is that a challenge, Rutherford?” That was definitely a hint of slyness in Cullen’s expression, despite how he tried to hide it. “I’ll take that bet.” He peered up at the sky before pronouncing, “I found your zodiac sign. Think you can find mine?”

“It’s not up yet,” Cullen chuckled, “but tell me your ascendant and I can try to find that.”

By the time the stars began to fly overhead, Dorian was exchanging chocolate laced kisses with Cullen and was fairly sure that he already had his wish for the night.


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reacting to the other one crying about something
> 
> (high school au)

To be honest, it didn’t surprise Dorian that his parents weren’t going to be around over Thanksgiving. It wasn’t a holiday any of them truly celebrated anyway, so not much would have changed even if they were staying. He told this to his mother as she fussed over him while Halward stood by the door, sighing. 

It would be such a shame if he missed a chance to rub shoulders with more politicians, Dorian was sure.

What he hadn’t been expecting for Cullen to be horrified instead of pleased to learn that he had the house to himself, insisting that he could spend the holidays with his family.

His family, who still had Dorian terrified of them, just waiting for one of them to realize that he was in no way worthy of Cullen. His own fears couldn’t be entirely irrational, after all.

He had been entirely unsure what to bring, but, in the end, Cullen’s siblings had been ecstatic over the assortment of sodas he had bought. It wasn’t like he had much time to reflect on that before being tugged back into the kitchens. He was distantly aware of the fact that Cullen was tussling around with his other two siblings, all of them gathered somewhere close to the television that Mr. Rutherford had set to football, of course.

He was kept nestled between Mia and her mother, his shirtsleeves pushed up around his elbows so he could help roll out the pie dough. He had huffed along at first, hating how the rolling pin continued to stick, no matter how many coverings of flour it received. But Mia had simply giggled, presence almost as warm of her brother’s as she said, “It doesn’t have to be  _perfect_ , Dorian!” and Mrs. Rutherford regaled them both with some of Cullen’s more disastrous baking attempts.

He was certain he looked a mess afterwards, but no one seemed to notice. Which perhaps was fair given the spread before them and the rush of conversation that ensued. He didn’t even realize just how many stories had been eased out of him to share until he was staring around at all the delighted faces and Cullen’s hand was squeezing his knee under the table.

By the time pie was served everyone had dispersed somewhat. Rosalie had let Branson challenge her to a game of chess, smirking while Mia looked on wide eyed between them. And Cullen’s parents were, for lack of a better word, snuggling at the couch.

Dorian had insisted on helping Cullen with at least some of the dishes, waving off the protests that he was the guest. He just hadn’t realized how long he had been standing there, hands floating in the soapy water, until Cullen wrapped an eye around him. “Oh, sorry, I’ll just…” Warmth streaked across his cheeks when he recognized what the burning eyes behind his eyes was. “ _Shit_.”

“Hey.” Cullen wiped at his eyes for him, his own entirely too gentle. “What’s going on? I thought everything was going well.”

“It is,” Dorian said, “of course it is, but…” He sighed, gesturing towards the living room. “It’s just that this…this is a  _family_. And, I mean, do you have any idea how lucky you are?”

Cullen was silent for the better half of a minute brow furrowed, but he wouldn’t let Dorian pull away from him, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. “Well, yeah, that’s why I wanted to share it with you.”

He didn’t mention the way Dorian’s breath hitched at that, letting his boyfriend hide his face in the crook of his neck as his hand slid under his ridiculous Oxford shirt, pressing against the fluttering expanse of his stomach.


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parthenophilia: one character taking the others virginity

If anyone asked, they were studying. It had been about the only way that Cullen had been able to convince his mom that, yes, he and Dorian were alright with staying in while everyone went to movies instead. Except, based on the thumbs up Branson had given him and how Mia had shooed a gagging Rosalie away, he supposed it was sort of an open secret as to what was actually going to happen.

To be fair, though it was history, which meant both of them were studying more by route than anything else. So Dorian got bored with the task even quicker than usual, lips trailing over Cullen’s neck until his voice began to stutter through the reading.

It wasn’t until Dorian had him on his back, though, with their jeans shoved already halfway down that Cullen gasped out, “No, wait—” He had to grab Dorian by the shirt when the other boy tried to pull away, expression panicked. “No, it’s not that I…” Why was it that none of these conversations could ever happen like he had planned out in his head. “I want you to…to fuck me.”

He didn’t think he was imagining that sharp intake of breath from Dorian. “Are you sure?” His fingers danced across the Cullen’s hipbone and over, lips twitching upwards when the other boy arched towards the touch. “This isn’t something we need to… And I can be the one to…”

Cullen shook his head. “I know, but I…” His tongue darted out to lick across his dry lips. “But I want to feel it. If that’s okay, I mean—” He figured the way Dorian’s mouth slammed over his, effectively cutting him off, was a definite answer.

It was fairly easy to guide Dorian to where he had hidden the lubricant in his nightstand drawer, shaking his head when the boy tried to ask after condoms. It wasn’t as if they didn’t know each other were clean, after all. Dorian was Cullen’s first for just about everything and Dorian had snuck out to get tested as soon as fooling around had become a certainty instead of simply a possibility.

Still, Dorian’s fingers felt entirely different easing inside of him then his own had. He shook his head when his boyfriend asked if it was too much, though, pushing down against the stretch. And he was glad he had when Dorian managed to knock against something that had him gasping within minutes.

“What was…”

“Did you not manage to find that in your own exploration?” Dorian chuckled. “That’s your prostate, amatus, and believe me when I say that I plan on exploiting it thoroughly.”

It was Cullen’s own mistake to think that the mounting desperation would ensure that Dorian wouldn’t tease him for too long. By the time the fourth finger had been eased in, Dorian had begun to hold them still all together just so Cullen could ride against them with each buck of his hips. Which was glorious, but he hadn’t forgotten what he had been after in the first place, even through the growing fog in his mind.

When he eased his eyes open at last, though, a breathless laugh was punched out from him when he took in the earnest expression on Dorian’s face. “Dori, I appreciate it, really, but I’m ready.”

“If you’re sure.” Dorian tugged his fingers out slowly, seemingly enthralled at the way Cullen squirmed throughout it all. “We can always—” The rest of his words were swallowed up in a rush of air as Cullen flipped him over onto his back, the growl against his ear silencing any rebuttal he might have come up with.

“You are so impossible.” Cullen was near chuckling when he said it, though, eyes gone impossibly warm, and once again Dorian was left trying to understand precisely where had gotten so lucky.

“You knew that when you agreed to date me, darling.” He splayed his hands over Cullen’s hips, not wanting to push, but still finding it hard not to press upwards when the other boy slowly lowered down against him. The way that Cullen’s eyes flew wide when the head of Dorian’s cock slipped inside him, mouth dropping open, made all of it worth it anyway.

It was much harder to remain still as Cullen eased him in, inch by inch. He waited until Cullen began to whine, grasping at his chest, to push up the rest of the way. He caught Cullen’s hand before the boy could bite down on his knuckles, squeezing it as he shook his head. “There’s no one home, remember?” he said. “You can be as loud as you want.”

Which was just as well because what proceeded from there was sloppy in every sense of the word. It took a bit to find the right rhythm, but eventually Dorian simply gave up, one hand tangled in Cullen’s sweat damp curls and the other clutching at his hip while letting the other boy take what he wanted.

He wasn’t above batting Cullen’s hand away from his cock, however, despite how the boy mewled. “No, just from this. You can do that for me, can’t you, amatus?” He pinched at Cullen’s thigh when he didn’t get an answer right away, grinning at the way the boy’s head whipped up and down almost immediately after that. “There we are.”

Cullen spilled over the edge only a few minutes later, painting Dorian’s chest in come. Yet even after he had half slumped over Dorian, he wiggled his ass, smiling dazedly when Dorian groaned. “Don’t stop,” he murmured, gasping anew when Dorian thrust up into him.

Dorian only lasted about a handful of extra shoves upward, but the sigh of contentment Cullen let out when it happened was about as brilliant as his own orgasm.

“We should get cleaned up, you know.” He didn’t make much of an effort to move Cullen off him, however, hand skating over the broad expanse of the other boy’s back.

“They won’t even be through the first part of the movie yet,” Cullen said. “And they’re gonna want to go out for dinner after.” There was a sly edge to the smile he cast up at Dorian. “That’s enough for round too, don’t you think?”

Dorian shook his head, reaching down to cup at Cullen’s as. “Oh, I think that’s room for a lot more than just that.”


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian sneaks over to Cullen's house (he's trying to be romantic, kind of).
> 
> High School AU

Cullen couldn’t be entirely sure what time it was when the tapping started; all he could be sure of was that it was definitely too late to be tolerating it. He rolled over at first, tugging his covers up over his head, but eventually it just became too much to ignore and he had to sit up to figure out where the heck the sound was coming from in the first place.

Which was when he saw the actual  _hand_ rapping against his window.

“What the…” Cullen threw his head open, sticking his head out to look at the slope of the roof by his window. “ _Dorian_?”

“Finally.” There was a slur to Dorian’s tone that didn’t bode well. “I thought you were going to leave me to freeze out here.”

“Well you could’ve come at through the door like a reasonable person,” Cullen said. “Or, scratch that, at a reasonable time.”

Dorian shook his head, teeth sunk into his bottom lip. “I didn’t want to be around them anymore.” His laughter had no humor in it. “Or, no, I didn’t want to be around  _him_.”

Cullen didn’t bother to ask what Halward Pavus had managed to do this time. He would find out when Dorian was ready, he was sure, and, besides, he had been around the man enough to already have some ideas. “Can you get in without falling on your face?”

“Oh, ye of little faith.” Dorian did flail quite spectacularly as he wiggled through the window, but at least it was just into Cullen’s arms from which he seemed loathe to leave. Which was meant it was probably just as good that Cullen was well equipped to carry him back to bed, undoing his boyfriend’s shoes before tugging him into the blanket nest he had constructed.

Dorian hummed, burrowing his way into Cullen’s chest. “You spoil me, amatus.” And, Maker, if it didn’t wreck Cullen to think that  _this_  was what Dorian thought was too much to naturally expect.

“This?” He wound his arms as securely as he could around Dorian. “This is nothing. Soon you’ll have me singing to you.”

He expected Dorian to laugh at him, not beam up at him with a look of dozy contentment. “I look forward to it.”

Andrastate preserve him, this man was going to be the death of him.


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My parents are coming, so please put some clothes on."
> 
> College AU

It hadn’t taken long into his first semester for Cullen to realize that a major competent of college was rebelling against what your parents had enforced for you. Dorian had been doing it his whole life, honestly, all culminating in him opting out of more ivy league schools to attend Skyhold since it was where “everyone who mattered” was going. For Cullen, though, who couldn’t remember a time that he  _hadn’t_  been surrounded by family, it was an entirely knew experience.

He learned fairly early on that binge eating all the food you were told was bad for you wasn’t actually a good idea. He had at least had Evelyn there to suffer with him, clutching at her stomach while her twin hauled her up from the floor, shaking his head. At least Dorian had had enough pity to deposit him in bed, although he made sure to call him a fool the whole while.

Still, it was rather nice not to have some guilt trip into straightening up his room when he was already exhausted from working on assignments. And there had only been a few occasions of someone banging on the other side of the wall when things got too loud. For the most part it just meant being subjected to Sera’s snickers and Bull tossing them a thumb’s up as soon as one of them poked their head out.

Dorian never blushed like he did, least not then. Amazingly enough it was things like holding hands around campus or kissing before slipping into class that still had him turning red.

As the end of November drew near, however, Cullen found himself looking forward to break. It would be good to get away for awhile to recharge and, despite all the noise that he knew would come with, he missed his family.

Although not enough that being awoken by a text from Mia informing that, “Surprise! We’re springing you early, baby bro!” wasn’t enough to send him into a panic. Mainly because Dorian was stretching out, gloriously bare under the sunlight streaming through the windows.

He turned to smile at Cullen when he realized he was being watched. “Good morning, amatus—” A shirt to the face cut him off and there was a frown when he tugged it away. “What’s this? Did I not preform satisfactorily last night?” He glance down at the shirt, brow knotting together. “This isn’t even my shirt. It’s  _plaid_.”

“The family’s coming to surprise us.” Cullen tugged on the nearest clean jeans he could find, fairly sure they were the ones that Dorian had ripped off the night before. The button was certainly loose enough to seem like it. “In ten minutes or just about, so please put some clothes on.”

More than fair share of the mess wound up in their respective closets, which he thought was what his mom’s knowing glance was for when she arrived. At least until Mia took it upon herself to drag him aside and apply some concealer to his neck.

At least Dorian got to share his blush over  _that._


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘homecoming/prom night’ sex//‘we’re drunk and horny’ sex
> 
> High School AU

Cullen figured that, given his group of friends, he really should have known better. There was no way to sneak alcohol into the actual dance, not with Miss Stannard all put patting everyone done before entering. He was pretty sure that at least someone had snagged a video of the argument that Principal Elthina had had to break up when Mr. Orsino decided to start preaching about childhood freedom again.

The ride to the hotel, though, was clearly fair game if the way Sera all but dived for the cooler was any guess. Although, to be fair, they were all probably somewhat aided by the fact that Dorian had decided to arrange for a limo for them. 

(”Isn’t that what people do for this sort of event? Why are you all looking at me like that?”)

So, many a drinking game later, it was safe to say that all of them were more than a bit tipsy. At least enough that Cullen wound up giggling after he forgot where the bed was and managed to trip into it.

“You get even more adorable when you drink.” The large bed bounced when Dorian flopped down on it, which only set Cullen laughing anew. “It’s entirely unfair.” He reached out to brush his fingers over the hair that Leliana had spent careful hours in front of the mirror slicking down and into some sort of fashion. “Miss your curls.”

Cullen hummed, bumping his head back against Dorian’s palm. “You’re gonna have to get me all messed up again then.” His eyes widened when he took in the steady rise of Dorian’s eyebrows. “I mean…ah… That is to say…”

Dorian cut him off with a kiss, chuckling into it. “Never fret, amatus, I’m sure I can prove up to the task.”

It was even more of an effort to get their clothes off than usual, given that there were actual  _layers_  now and neither of them seemed quite sure how to get their fingers to cooperate with them. Although Cullen was fairly sure Dorian realized what had done by the time he got his hands down low enough if the sharp inhale against his throat was any guess.

“Did you truly…”

Cullen bit down on his bottom lip, doing his best not to press down against the finger that was just barely there; enough and not all at once. “Evelyn thought it’d be a good… She said you’d like it.” He peered up at Dorian. “Do you? Um…like it, that is?”

He wound up squirming anew at the way Dorian had to lick his lips before answering. “Most definitely.” He grimace. “Although I’d rather not think of our dear friend while in bed with you, dear as she is.”

Cullen slung his arms up around Dorian’s neck, smile open and easy for once. “That’s alright. I’ve heard I can be very distracting.”

“Impossibly so,” Dorian said, leaning down to nip his way into Cullen’s mouth.

Given exactly how many mixed drinks each of them had knocked back, Cullen had expected a touch of roughness. It was how Dorian tended to be anyway, as though he still had to grasp tight to ensure that all he had wouldn’t slip away.

Yet not a single incentive could provoke Dorian to move faster, even when Cullen dug his fingernails into the other boy’s shoulders. He didn’t stop Cullen from jerking down harder, though, with the kisses peppered across his body starting to seem like a reward for crying. It couldn’t be a surprise that he wound up coming with a strangled sound after Dorian’s hand finally wrapped around his cock.

He pressed his own lazy kisses against Dorian’s shoulder when his boyfriend shuddered above him. And it felt like a luxury almost to be able to roll back into Dorian’s arms when the other boy pulled away instead of having to rush to clean up.

“What was that about?” he asked.

“Don’t you know?” Dorian dropped a kiss to Cullen’s befuddled brow. “I love you.”

“And that’s enough?”

“ _Always_ , you silly man.” 


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where one character is the presidents kid and the other character has been assigned by the secret service to tail them everywhere and anywhere and the former is extremely annoyed.

Cullen had grown quite used to snooty people looking down their noses at him. There were plenty congressmen or senators, and even a few visiting dignitaries, who thought it beneath them to be handled by the head of the president’s security instead of another ranking member of staff. Even more scandalous, he was sure, was that his word was taken as seriously as any other ranking chief of staff.

It was always enough to give him a bit of a laugh, though, knowing that his job was just as stressful and intense as any of theirs. After all, their president tended to come up with plans on a whim; some of which were as brilliant as his march to the Hill or as ridiculous as managing to ride his bike into a tree when upset. And that was just counting the things that the public actually got to see or, at the very least, hear about.

Any day could, as Varric had so charmingly put it, turn into a political shit storm at any moment.

Which was a lot what Cullen’s current detail felt like right now.

“This is ridiculous!” Dorian, of course, had to wave his hands around to illustrate his point, making Cullen consider, for one humorous moment, how brilliant it would be if the man’s over the top drink upturned on him as a result. It was Dorian, after all, who had insisted that they head to the overpriced cafe instead of something easier. “I’m of age and achieving my  _Masters_ , for Maker’s sake! The last thing I need is a babysitter!”

Cullen took a deep breath, trying very hard not to give in to the urge to rub at his already aching temples. “And I know all that,” he said. “It’s only that with the current political climate it isn’t safe to—”

“Oh yes,” Dorian cut in, voice dripping with venom, “I can only imagine how horrible it’d be for another member of the press to catch me holding hands with another man. Or worse yet  _kissing_ him. It escapes me why they would allow someone as strapping as you to be my detail, though. What do they hope you’ll do? Frighten any hopeful suitors away by playing the protective boyfriend?”

“Uh…” Cullen managed at least two blinks before shaking his head. “Did you not notice that our president supports your political aims? Enough so that he’s in meetings currently with the aide of Magister Alexius to try to strong arm your father into securing the vote for the freedom of sexuality in Tevinter.”

“Oh.” Dorian shifted on his feet, apparently unable to think of what to say. A rare moment, Cullen was sure. “But then why…?”

“We heard…” Cullen glanced around, taking in all the people in the cafe that were very clearly pretending  _not_  to be listening and dropping his voice. “Trevelyan got intel on what your father’s plans for you were. So I’m here to reinforce that that will by no means be allowed to occur.”

“You… You can’t be…” Cullen wasn’t expecting to be socked in the chest, so he wound up stumbling back a few paces, staring at Dorian’s infuriated face with wide eyes. “You fool of a man! You knew this all along and yet you  _still_ let me treat you like trash?”

Cullen rolled his shoulders up into a shrug. “Passion suits you.” He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as Dorian gaped at him. “Are we all set then, my lord?”

“Oh no.” Dorian pinched at the inside of Cullen’s offered arm as he wrapped his own around it. “We are most decidedly  _not_ , Agent Rutherford.” 


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jealous Kiss.
> 
> High School AU

Seeing as it was his very first official relationship, Dorian thought he was right to be anxious. Which was why he was always glad to have a sounding board, despite how many times Felix might be made to roll his eyes over him. He thought that stopping by the coffee shop should be a reward for all of his friend’s patience, especially since Felix was at last feeling well enough to indulge without any restrictions on his diet.

That the place happened to be where Cullen worked was simply a coincidence, of course.

Felix had been nodding his head along to all of this, listening with half an ear, right up until Dorian stopped short enough for him to actually bump into the other boy. “Dorian, what…” He lifted his gaze to the counter. “Oh.”

There was no way that Cullen  _meant_  to be flirting with the girl at the counter. Except she already had her order and was yet still standing there, giggling at everything Cullen said as she tossed dark curls back over her shoulder. Surely, even someone as oblivious as Cullen had to realize what was going on?

Dorian was inclined to walk right back out, spitefully heading to the Starbucks that formed the little shop’s biggest competition instead. But then Cullen saw him and all at once his face was breaking out into a brilliant smile as he waved his hand in the air.

“Dorian!” He turned back towards the girl on the other side of the counter, who seemed somewhat overwhelmed by Cullen’s sudden glow. “That’s my boyfriend.” And his tone was infused with so much wistful pride that Dorian thought he could be forgiven for the way his knees turned to jelly.

“Oh, I didn’t realize…” The girl ducked in on herself, snatching her order up at last. “Have a good day,” she mumbled before dashing back to her friends.

“Hey, Dorian!” Cullen announced after Felix had ushered Dorian up. “I thought you said we couldn’t meet today.”

Dorian stood up on his tiptoes, leaning across the counter to press a kiss to Cullen’s lips. He lingered to stare into the dazed expression on his boyfriend’s face. “Eh,” he hummed, “I was feeling somewhat entitled to your time.”


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Subtle kindnesses --- Dorian is very interested in knowing who his secret admirer is.

At first nothing seemed amiss.

If a book or two would be left at his usual place in the library, Dorian just assumed that one of the archivist must have gotten tried of his curse laden labors while trying to find it the day before. The tea that replaced his wine was chalked up to a similar occurrence. He was no doubt easier to deal with when not toeing around being properly tipsy after all.

And, besides, the spices mixed within the tea reminded him of home far more than any bottle could.

The real issue occurred when he tried to thank Karl for the scarf that had been delivered to his chambers. It was fashioned from the wool that all the South seemed to favor, yet rendered somehow stylist through it’s bronze tint. The Inquisitor might have been tossed into the Circle for a time, but that did nothing to expel his noble upbringing. It seemed only right to expect that he was the one responsible for a gift that could prove functional as well as fashionable.

Karl had shaken his head over the matter before getting a strange sort of gleam to his eyes. He leaned back in his chair, raising his voice enough so that it echoed around the library. It was an action that cast him the scowls of a few archivists at the very least.

“Say, Cullen, you know how to knit, don’t you?”

The Commander merely hummed, barely sparing an upward glance from the reports in his hands. “After a fashion, yes. My sister was somewhat determined that I learn as well if she was already being made to.”

“Right.” Karl leaned for to snag Dorian’s scarf, seeming uncaring of the squawk that the other man let out as a result. “So something like this is something you could do? It’s a simple enough pattern, right?”

Cullen peered over the tops of his sheets of paper, nodding. “Yes, that wouldn’t be hard at all…” He had been on the verge of reaching out to touch the scarf as well until he realized who specifically was wearing it. Dorian didn’t think he had ever seen a man become redder and wondered whether or not he should be concerned. “Uh…as I was saying… I mean… If you would excuse me, my lord.”

He barely even waited for Karl’s nod of approval, which was just as well because the boy began laughing before he was even out the door.

“And what,” Dorian demanded, “was that all about?”

“Oh, I think you know.” Karl returned to his own work, unperturbed by Dorian standing before his desk, foot tapping away. He grinned at the small, shocked sound that reached his ears a few seconds later.

“Never thought I’d be playing matchmaker,” he mumbled as Dorian bolted out the door, already calling Cullen’s name.


	49. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile since Cullen has awaken in another's bed without a memory of how he got there.

Cullen tended not to give into indulgence as a matter of principal, but at some point in the night it had seemed far simpler to just accept another glass of bubbling substance instead of giving into the urge to snap at yet another twittering Orlaisian noble. He figured he had Leliana to thank for getting him to his chambers in one piece and even that the hangings of his bed were tugged shut to keep out the light.

He was somewhat concerned over his lack of clothes, however. Certainly none of Leliana’s spies would have seen to that or, worst yet, their master herself. It was better to imagine that he had managed it at some point before giving into sleep. 

Now if you could just manage to return to that blessedly unconscious state again…

He shifted to edge back under the covers, groaning when they were pulled away from him instead. It took a moment for his mind to catch up with what exactly that meant, lifting his head with great effort only to have his eyes widen.

“Dorian? What are you doing in my bed?”

The other man squawked, apparently unconcerned with the way Cullen grimaced at the sound. “Excuse me, I think the real question here is what you’re doing in  _my_  bed!” 

Cullen pressed himself up onto his elbows with surprisingly little grumbling. “This isn’t…” He trailed off as he took in the books piled up on the nightstand, something he can well remember Adaar rolling his eyes over as Dorian rambled on about how necessary each tome was while preparing for their trip. “Ah, so it is.” His eyes slid down the smooth expanse of Dorian’s chest, down to where the blanket pooled around his hips. “ _Oh_.” He cleared his throat, not doubting that in how red his face had become. “Well I guess it’s somewhat clear what happened then.”

“What?” Dorian glanced down at himself and then back over at Cullen with slowly dawning horror on his face. “But you don’t even  _like_  men.”

Cullen quirked an eyebrow at that. “Is that what you think?” He flopped down onto his stomach again, too weary to bother anymore. “Clearly I’ve been doing something wrong then.” He chuckled at Dorian’s stammering, lifting an arm to block against the pillow that was thrown at him.

“Fine,” Dorian said, “presuming that this  _did_  happen…who was on top?”

“Can’t remember,” Cullen admitted. “Why don’t you move around a little more and find out.”

“Oh,  _really_ ,” Dorian said. “You think you’re that well endowed, Commander?”

Cullen rolled over onto his stomach, unable to keep a smile from his face. “Why don’t you come see for yourself, altus?”

Dorian’s laughter was rich, causing warmth to pool in Cullen’s stomach that had far less to do with arousal then he might want to think. “Bold words, but are you sure you’re up to the task? We did have quite a night apparently.”

Cullen hummed, reaching over to catch Dorian’s hand and guide it downwards. His expression turned sly when he heard Dorian’s breath hitch. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re not going to be leaving this bed for quite some time.” Dorian dropped the covers at last to duck underneath them, making Cullen shiver with anticipation. “For it’s going to take ages for me to have my fill of you.” 


	50. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High School AU where the boys use Skype to be together for Christmas (in the naughtiest ways).

Dorian had actually had  _plans_  for Christmas this year. The Rutherford family had all but sworn him into their holiday plans and had given Cullen their allowance to spend the New Year’s over at Dorian’s house. The latter alone was enough to convince Dorian that the holidays were going to be brilliant for once.

At least until his father that now was the ideal time to discover a conscience and drag them all back to Tevinter for the holidays. The only comfort was that Gereon had arranged for similar plans when he heard, which meant that he would at least have Felix a long to grumble with.

Except now, on the night before Christmas, Dorian had assured Felix that he was fine and that,  _yes_ , he could go call his own terribly Ferelden boyfriend. Just because he was miserable didn’t mean that the other boy had to suffer with him. Although he was decidedly  _not_  going to think of the phone sex the two were no doubt having at this point.

He opened up his Skype on a whim, honestly, wondering if maybe if his cluster of other international friends (Bull, Leliana, and Josephine respectively) might have popped on from their own homes. His eyes widened when he saw the little green bubble by Cullen’s name, though, especially when a request for a video chat sprang up.

“Cullen?” he exclaimed, barely before the video had even had a chance to load up entirely. “What are you doing awake?”

“I was very determined.” Cullen is in his room, of course, sprawled on his stomach on his bed with no illumination save the glow emanating from his laptop. There’s a sleepy smile attached to his face, eyes as warm as they ever are when looking at Dorian. “Still wanted to be there for you over the hols’.” 

“While I’m flattered,” Dorian teased, “but you look prepared to fall sleep on me.”

He was absolutely  _not_  expecting the half sly curve Cullen’s lips took on. “Well maybe you should do something to wake me up then.”

Dorian could feel heat creeping up the back of his neck, mouth already going dry. He had always done his best not to push Cullen when it came to things like this. The other boy tended to stammer through the most innocent of requests, always feeling like he had to prove himself in bed to convince Dorian to stay, no matter how many times he was reminded that that wasn’t the case.

“Cullen, I really—”

“Dori… I wanna do this.” Cullen’s eyes dipped down as he began to chew on his bottom lip. “I kept thinking about it all day, hoping you’d get on tonight.”

“And how many orgasms did that result in, dare I ask?”

“None.” Cullen flushed all the harder under Dorian’s raised eyebrows. “It didn’t feel right doing it without you telling me it was alright. Wanted to save it for you.”

And, oh  _fuck_ , that was like getting kicked in the gut with arousal. 

It only gets worse as Cullen rolls onto his side, slipping a hand down under his sleep pants. “Figured it’s alright to do it now, though.”

“Did you now?” It’s a rhetorical question, of course, since Dorian is already lounging back against his headboard to get his own hand down where it’s needed. He would be lying if he claimed it wasn’t gratifying to watch Cullen’s hips buck upwards at the image. 

“Yes.” Cullen’s tongue darted out to wet his lips while his eyes were drawn to a place that’s definitely lower than Dorian’s eyes. “Wish I could suck you off.”

“Only if you let me cum on your face,” Dorian said. He knows he’s hit the mark on that one with the groan that breaks free from Cullen, the outline of his hand jerking in his pants. It’s not something they get to do often, regretfully, not when there are so many eyes and ears to watch out for most of the time, but Cullen has already loved it.

“H—Hang on, I had a… Hang on…” 

It’s rather adorable to watch Cullen stumble out of bed with an obvious hard on, at least until he comes back with a certain gag gift that Evelyn had snagged for them last year. 

Cullen was already wiggling his way out of his pants, kicking them off the bed as he spread his legs apart. If it weren’t for the streak of red painting his chest, Dorian would wonder whether his boyfriend hadn’t been replaced with some sort of pod person.

“I…um…” Cullen peered up at Dorian through his eyelashes. “This was supposed to be part of your Christmas present, but since you’re not here…”

“If you tell me you prepped yourself already…” Cullen ducked his head. “Maker’s balls, Cullen.”

“I wanted to… I mean, I thought it’d be nice to…”

“Nice is not the word I’d use for how you’re making me feel right now.” Dorian ran his fingers down the line of his cock, eyes never leaving the screen. “I’m afraid I won’t last long if actually manage what you’re suggesting, amatus.”

“That’s okay,” Cullen murmured. “I’m fairly sure I won’t either.” Then he’s sliding that damn toy into himself, gasping the whole way as his free hand clawed at his sheets. “It’s… It’s not as wide as you…but it is  _long_.”

“Maker take you,” Dorian grumbled, “if you’re trying to make me jealous of a  _toy_ …”

“Well,” Cullen chuckled, “I’m fairly sure you can’t do this part either.” His fingers fumble for the dial, but Dorian knew exactly when he found it from the way his hips buck and a stream of curses break free from that usually pure mouth.

“Well aren’t you a lovely sight,” Dorian purred, if only to watch the way Cullen shuddered. His fingers twitch against his thigh, wishing that he could be there to push the toy in deeper or to take advantage of the way Cullen’s mouth keeps gaping open. As it stands, he settled for wrapping his hand around his cock instead, working it in fast, jerking movements, somewhat unintentionally matching the rhythm to which Cullen is shoving the toy into himself. 

He meant to wait for Cullen to come first, but then the boy simply pressed the toy in, holding it there against his prostate, and the blissful expression on his face was simply too much. It didn’t seem like too much of a mistake, though, when he came back down to find Cullen staring at him through hooded eyes, hand painted with his own cum as well.

“The things I’m going to do to you,” Dorian muttered.

Cullen grinned, lifting his hand to his mouth to lick it clean, entirely too pleased with how Dorian’s eyes follow each movement. “Mmm, looking forward to it, love.”


	51. Chapter 51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen asks to be humiliated in the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Everything is entirely consensual, with aftercare at the end, but there's a bit of dubious consent play paired with breath play here

Cullen can’t see much through the blindfold. He can catch the burning of fragrant candles on each inhale, though, and the texture of the sheets beneath him is impossibly smooth. He’s drawn back to himself by a tap on his jaw followed by a rich roll of laughter.

“Who would have thought the Commander of the Inquisition would give in so easily.” A small huff. “Like a common slut.”

Cullen jerks against the ropes securing him to the headboard. “I’m not—” He’s cut off by a smack to his thigh, forcing him to inhale sharply through his nose.

“Don’t lie.” There’s a finger tracing the hard line of his cock and, much as he tries to resist, Cullen finds himself pressing towards it. “You wouldn’t be leaking so much already if that wasn’t the case.” His head thunks back against the pillows when the finger abruptly dips down and  _in_. “And you’re already all warm and prepared as well. Simply delightful.”  

“You can’t just…” Cullen bites down on his bottom lip to suppress a grown as another finger unfurls to join the first. “This isn’t how it’s done.”

“No?” The innocence in that tone feels completely out of place as the fingers rub against his prostate. “Would you have preferred dinner first?” And Cullen is halfway to saying just that until, “Then I would have had to have you over the table instead.”

Cullen presses down against the fingers hard, face burning at that the laughter that follows. “And you try to claim that you don’t want this?” He gasps at the way his legs are harshly nudged apart, trying to fight it, but without the aid of his hands for leverage he can’t do much good.

Lips settle against his neck, humming almost gently. “Relax, Commander. If you simply accept the inevitable then this will be much more pleasurable for you.” The fingers slide free to be replaced by the press of something far wider. “I certainly know it will be for me.”

The short prep work was hardly enough, yet Cullen strains against the restraints all the same as he presses down to meet each inch. There are hands to keep his hips pinned to the bed after that, however, putting him at the mercy of each sharp thrust. It makes him feel like an object, there to be used for pleasure, although if the words being hissed into his ear are any inclination, he’s doing his job very well.

It almost feels like a relief when he feels the mounting pleasure low in his gut, but then a hand slams around his neck, squeezing warningly. “Oh no you don’t. Whores don’t get to come before their customers.”

Cullen groans aloud at that, which at least seems to please the man enough to pick up the pace. By the time the other comes he’s certain that the skin around his neck will be red tomorrow or worse by how hard the man kept gripping down as he neared his peak.

But that hardly matters when the blindfold is being eased off and there are deft fingers working to undo the binds around his wrists. He smiles in lazy contentment up at Dorian, who answers with a smile of his own and a gentle kiss.

“How are you?”

“Green.” Cullen nuzzles into the hand pressed to his cheek. “I’m good, Dori, I promise.” 

“Oh, you’ve already proven that.” Dorian slides away from him, easing the lose with a kiss to his brow. His hand is around Cullen’s cock only seconds later and the other man only lasts a few drags before shuddering out his orgasm with a weak cry.

Cullen flops into Dorian’s arms later, content simply to be held while Dorian rubs his hand over his back and assures him of how very good he is.

Tomorrow when Dorian fusses over the marks on his neck, he’ll make sure to do the same.


	52. Chapter 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen is not at all impressed with his new husband's parents.
> 
> Arranged Marriage AU

Dorian had thought that, after refusing to budge on the matter of his  _preferences_ , any plans for marriage would have been immediately dropped. He wouldn’t let himself be placed with a woman and no Tevinter family of good stock would dare to allow one of their sons to be wed to him.

Well, at least he had been right about the latter part of it all.

The Archon might have pawned him off on the King of Ferelden—unmarried despite his heirs—but the man was wed to his mistress in every way except that which counted most. So instead Dorian was saddled with the Commander of the Ferelden forces.

Cullen Rutherford. A man who sent handwritten letters and let texts on magical theory or jugs of Ferelden ale serve as courtship gifts. Even the ring he slipped onto Dorian’s finger during the odd mix of a ceremony was a simple band as golden as the man’s hair, if lined with runes that made his skin buzz on contact.

He was, however, prepared for the disaster that would be the wedding feast.

It was bound to be a grand affair what with King Alistair in attendance, so there would be no chance of growing bored with the entertainments or finding the food too plain to be of any interest. Some traditions truly did span across cultures, however, which meant that his parents would be sat beside him at the high table, all too ready to monitor his every movement. He wouldn’t be able to raise a glass without shrewd eyes counting how many times it had been full and there would be pinches placed under the table if he dared to speak out of term.

Which was why he was so baffled to find Felix waiting in the chair next to his, and Gereon besides his son, that he actually stopped short as Cullen was leading him up to the table.

“Dorian?” At least everyone was too lost in gossiping and fawning over the food to take notice of the way Cullen was peering down at him. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, it’s just…” Dorian cleared his throat, trying not to let his hackles rise as he found his parents at last at the end of the table, peering around to glower at him. What was much stranger was the way that Cullen frowned at them, tugging Dorian closer almost protectively.

 _Oh_.

“So you did it on purpose then.” Dorian tipped his chin towards the end of the table in response to the rising of Cullen’s eyebrows, making no effort to hold back his smile when the other man blushed in a truly spectacular fashion.

“I…uh… No, that is…” Cullen sighed, squeezing the inside of Dorian’s arm from where theirs were still wound together. “Forgive me, but I’m already aware of how uncomfortable this all must be for you and I will not have them making it worse.”

“They won’t…” Dorian was cut off by the flash of something hard in Cullen’s gaze, although it disappeared in an instant as his newly minted husband ducked his head.

“You don’t need to lie to me,” Cullen said, “and I will have you safe. Always, if I can help it.”

Dorian was sure he was quite the sight as Cullen shifted away to pull out his chair; all blinking eyes and slacked mouth. At least he managed to collect himself before Cullen turned around, holding out a hand to guide him down into his place. “That’s quite the promise, Commander Rutherford.”

“Perhaps.” Dorian jerked upright at the sensation of lips on the top of his head. “But the worthy ones are always worth keeping.” Dorian didn’t think he was imagining the hint of a smirk tugging on those lips. “And it’s Cullen,  _husband_.”

 _Well_  then.


	53. Chapter 53

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen isn't sick --- really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no mentions of the standard tropes that come with it, but this is set in an ABO verse.

Sometimes it felt like Cullen had had to spend his whole life defying expectations. When the Templars had come to their farm to collect the child that their peers had deemed so promising, Branson had been who they had expected. He had had to knock more than a few people onto their backs during training to get them to stop their sneers and then there were those that had somehow meant well by fussing over him after Kinloch Hold, fretting over an upset to his “delicate” nature.

He had had to all but beat sense into many of the recruits at first, forcing them to see that orientation didn’t hold a direct correlation to capability. At least many of them had had the decency to look shame faced after and, to his credit, the Inquisitor had never held what he scented as against him.

Still, even now, when the Inquisition was stronger than ever after at last putting the Winter Palace behind them, Cullen knew that he couldn’t give in to relaxation. At the very least he owed it to Adaar to make sure the capability of their troops didn’t wane, even if it meant handling the paperwork that fell through the cracks. Their leader often seemed to being pulled in no fewer than a dozen places at once and Cullen refused to be the one to place more wait on those shoulders.

He jumped near clear out of his skin, however, when a hand came down to rest against his forehead.

“D—Dorian?” Cullen sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, trying to discern why the other man would appear so upset. “Did I… Maker, I didn’t forget one of our meetings, did I?”

“Meetings? Is that what those are called nowadays?” The teasing was familiar at least, but the hard line of Dorian’s mouth certainly wasn’t.

“I… Well I simply…” Cullen was cut off by a sneeze that turned into a string of coughs more quickly then he would have liked. “Dorian, what’s the matter?”

Dorian clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth before setting to work undoing the straps of Cullen’s cloak, pinching at Cullen’s wrist when he tried to stop him. “You, my dear Commander, are half feverish and very definitely  _ill_. Which is why you’re going to go up to that dreadful loft of yours and into your nest while I go fetch a healer.”

“We don’t have a…” Cullen caught himself, cheeks flaring with even more heat. “I don’t have a nest.”

Dorian’s fingers stilled for a moment before easing off his breast plate. “No? Well I’ll have to remedy that situation immediately.”

“Dorian, I can’t just…” Cullen’s words slipped away from him as Dorian hauled him forward, lips pressing firmly to his forehead.

“There is nothing on this desk that won’t keep until tomorrow,” Dorian said. “And with all the horrors we have left to face I am hardly about to let a  _cold_ take you.”

Cullen eased an arm around Dorian’s waist, letting his head come to rest on the alpha’s chest. “Nothing is going to take you from your side, Dorian.” He pretended not to notice how ragged the breath that eked out of Dorian after that was, accepting the water and bowls of soap his alpha pressed on him later with little protest. 

Anything to take that panicked look from Dorian’s eyes.


	54. Chapter 54

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a lot easier to ignore Halward's letters from afar. A bit harder to deny their impact, however.

Since Cullen is typically so bogged down with documents of a more delicate nature, it’s often Dorian’s job to take the ones of a more personal nature. Most of the time it’s another message from one of the various members of the Rutherford brood (their name for themselves, not his own). There will often be little trinkets for Octavian included, who always marvels over such gifts, however small, and spends ages concocting the perfect thank you letters (often with accompanying drawings).

Sometimes, however, there will arrive documents of thick paper and sealed with an all too familiar symbol into the dark wax. Aquinea’s letters are…kind, if such a thing can still be said about his mother. All of her gifts are superb, arriving in trunks with something for the whole family. Her letters drift through the kind, loving words before cutting directly to the point.

_What have Octavian’s tutors been saying? Are you sure he still shows no signs of magic? If you would simply try as the scholar suggested in my last letter. Or perhaps if you looked for another child to…_

Shrieks of laughter distract Dorian from the latest such letter, prompting him to look up to where Cullen is currently spinning their son around the room. Both of them are wobbly by the time he stops, but certainly not enough for Octavian to forgo leaning in close to bonk his nose against his Da’s, giggling with delight when Cullen bounces him in the air as a reward.

Dorian crumples the paper in his hand, letting it drop to the desk before rising from his chair. Octavian all but tries to wriggle straight out of Cullen’s arms when he sees who’s approaching, but the Commander shows hardly a wink of envy as he passes the boy over to get a fresh collection of kisses from his Papa.

His boy has always been a marvel, of that much Dorian is certain, and Maker help anyone who tries to convince him otherwise.


	55. Chapter 55

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen is the jealous one this time. 
> 
> High School AU.

Despite all the assertions his friends would give to the contrary, Cullen couldn’t always shake the sense of how ill fitted Dorian and him were. For him, dates were things like trips to the diner or dragging a blanket out to look at the stars. He was content just to hold hands and be able to kiss in the hallway, which, to be fair, Dorian enjoyed too (maybe a little too much if some teachers were to be asked). 

But Cullen also knew from Dorian’s early flirtations with Bull before the two of them got together that the other boy was far more experienced then him. 

To his credit, Dorian had never judged him for it, allowing Cullen to set the pace, even if it meant stopping with hands down the other’s pants. But Cullen certainly wouldn’t blame him for getting frustrated with it all. Which was why it came as a smack to the face, but not a total surprise, when he found Dorian leaning into the space someone else at the diner bar, laughing in that way that bared his whole throat all at once when he tipped his head back.

Their cluster of friends shot him varying looks of sympathy when he sat down at their regular spot, although Sera took the cake by blowing a raspberry in the direction of the two men.

“It’s nothing, I’m sure.” The way Josephine kept darting a glance over at the bar, however, didn’t seem to speak of confidence. “He’s just an old friend, who happens to be doing an interesting thesis project if I understand correctly.”

Leliana opened her menu with a snap. “Is that so?” Her mouth pressed into a thin line. “If he doesn’t realize how foolish he’s being soon I will  _show_  him.”

“No, no, it’s…” Cullen dragged a hand through his hair, sighing. “Look, can we just talk about something else?”

Fortunately, Sera could almost literally talk someone’s ear off if prompted, especially once she got Bull going along with her. It was just far harder to focus on them then Cullen would have liked; the ringing of Dorian’s laughter and soft words somehow managing to cut over everything.

Everyone was in the middle of deciding whether or not splurge for dessert (a forgone conclusion, honestly) when Cullen caught a hand sneaking towards Dorian over the counter out of the corner of his eye.

He wasn’t entirely sure when he got to his feet, but he knew that his arm was draped over Dorian’s shoulder in seconds and that the smile fixed to his face half hurt. “Dorian, you’re being an ass.” It was worth it for the way the pretty faced boy at Dorian’s side sputtered.

Dorian merely blinked, frowning up into his face then looking over at the stony faces of their friend’s table with slowly dawning horror. “ _Oh_. So I am.” He tipped his head back and Cullen was taken aback by the honest fear there. “Forgive me?”

Cullen leaned down to press a kiss to the corner of Dorian’s mouth, squeaking in surprise when his boyfriend grabbed hold of his collar to make it a deeper one.

They would definitely need to address what had happened later, but now this certainty was enough.


	56. Chapter 56

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "things you said at the top of your lungs"
> 
> Octavian isn't used to people disparaging his parents in front of him and he doesn't like it one bit.

To say that Octavian is nervous to meet his grandparents is an understatement. He adores being able to see all of Da’s family because there are so  _many_  of them. No one questions that his blond curls tint towards red now or that his eyes are a slanted green among wide blue ones. He can be a part of the family without anyone questioning where he comes from.

But things have always been… _different_ …when it comes to Papa’s family.

Papa doesn’t talk about his family very much at all. There aren’t any visits to Tevinter like there are to Ferelden. He gets very fine gifts from his grandparents, but he never gets to see the letters that come with them; the ones that always make Papa so angry.

And his grandparents are mages, like Papa, while Octavian, despite all expectations, is not.

He doesn’t like the way Papa’s face crumbles when he comes down to the main hall in his best outfit, but Da smiles big and warm like always before scooping up up to be held, even if he’s getting to big for it.

Halward and Aquinea Pavus are not what he was expecting. His grandpa greets Papa with a handshake while his grandmother merely bestows barely there kisses to each cheek, neither of which holds with nothing of the tight hugs and lingering kisses Octavian has been taught to await.

Aquinea’s lips twitch into something like a smile when her gaze lands on him, fingers fluffing his hair. Its a gesture that makes Octavian want to flinch, burrowing into the safety of Da’s chest, although he can’t be sure why that is so. “He’s a handsome child. I see your letters didn’t lie about that, at least.” Her mouth purses. “A pity that won’t be enough to marry him into good stock.”

“If you are referring to what I think you are—” And Octavian has never heard Da’s voice so frosty. “—then you should know that neither Dorian or I find that to be a fault.”

“I see.” Halward holds out a hand, yet he waits for Octavian to reach out to take it, smile small but somehow warmer than his wife’s was. “If his intellect is anything to what Dorian boasts then I can see why. And, surely, there are plenty of Ferelden  families for him to align with. Especially after you take on another child.”

“Perhaps the issue was not made clear.” Octavian does burrow away into Da’s chest now, knowing that something bad has to be coming if Papa’s voice is getting so quiet. “Our son is not destined to become a bargaining chip for whatever designs you might have. Nor will any future child of ours.  _If_  indeed there are to be any.”

Halward sighs heavily, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth, but it’s Aquinea who starts  _yelling_. It’s too much all at once for Octavian to catch all the words, yet that doesn’t stop him from understanding the gist of it.

She’s accusing Papa of being insolent, of never taking his duties to his family seriously, and trying to spoil everything that’s ever been given to him. Which has Octavian squirming in Da’s arms until he has to be put down so that he can yell something of his own.

“ _Stop_!”

He can hear Da whispering his name behind him, but he shakes off the hand that comes down on his shoulder, focusing more on his wide eyed grandparents. He takes a deep breath, standing like how he’s seen Da when before his troops, back straight with his hands clasped behind his back.

“My Papa is a good man and I love him. If you can’t see that, if you can’t love him too then you’re not worthy of him.” He chews on the inside of his mouth for a moment before adding, “Or me.”

Octavian has seen enough real smiles to know that the one Aquinea offers is false for all its sweetness. “Darling, you simply don’t—”

“I’m not a mage,” Octavian cuts across, “and you don’t like that. But that’s  _your_  problem, not mine. And certainly not my Da and Papa’s.”

Aquinea looks like someone forced a lemon down her throat before stalking away, muttering something about finding a good vintage to soothe herself with.

Halward doesn’t follow her, though. Instead he sinks down to one knee with something like pride on his face. “Well, little man, I have heard you are already quite proficient with your practice sword. Would you like to show me?”

Octavian smiles extra wide then and pretends not to notice that Papa’s hugs are tighter than usual that night when he gets sent to bed. (He acts like he doesn’t hear the crying either, although he does crawl up the ladder in the morning to snuggle in between his parents.)


	57. Chapter 57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian isn't used to having someone who wants to treat him as gently as Cullen. 
> 
> High School AU

Dorian had never had a boyfriend before, or at least not one that he could actually  _refer_  to as such, so there were some things he was determined to do right. He wasn’t going to hide Cullen away, no matter what disapproving looks or thinly veiled threats his father tried to cast his way as a result. 

He got to have a boy that reached for his hand instead of pulling away and found the way he stuttered through getting kissed in public  _cute_ of all things. The list of things he was unwilling to tolerate to keep that in his life was, unsurprisingly, nil.

Which was exactly why he felt it necessary to stress that it had been Cullen’s idea, not his, to tug him into his bedroom, only to drop to his knees when his father was entertaining foreign ambassadors outside.

“Cullen, this isn’t something you…” Dorian was cut off by the first tentative lick at the tip of his cock, head slamming back against the door.

“You needed an out before you lost it down there.” Cullen looked far too pretty with his cheeks already turning pink. “And I thought it wouldn’t hurt to give a little extra.”

“Which I do appreciate, however…” Dorian reached down to tangle his fingers in Cullen’s hair, tugging to pull him back. Or at least that had been his intention until his boyfriend let out a mewl that was  _criminal_  in reaction to it. “Are you sure this is something you…”

“Dorian,” and there was laughter in Cullen’s voice as he leaned in, “let me do this for you.”

Dorian would have managed to come back with something suitably witty for that, he was sure, if Cullen hadn’t chosen that moment to start easing his cock into his mouth. All of his attention at that point had to go towards keeping from shoving forward, although that grew harder when Cullen slipped his fingers downward to brush across his balls.

He was dimly aware of the rise and fall of voices outside and a few footsteps outside that had him biting down on his hand to keep silent. But it was much easier to keep focus on the determined way Cullen had begun to rub against his leg, groaning deliciously whenever Dorian pulled just right at his hair. And, most important of all, what it looked like to see Cullen pull back in time to have come splatter across his cheek and down his neck, marking what he had done even more so then the bright red shine of his now bruised mouth.

His knees were still dangerously wobbly but that didn’t stop him from angling Cullen up for a kiss with the fingers still wound up in his curls. It would have been quite cruel, after all, not to notice just how hard his boyfriend still was.

“Up on the bed, amatus. It’s your turn.”


	58. Chapter 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wish you would write a fic where Dorian sees Cullen, the guy he's been trying to ask out but is a bit intimated by him, at a cosplay event. He thought that Cullen was this tough, confident jock but really he's just a giant shy dork. ;)

In Tevinter, such events had been staged as a way of reliving the glory days of when the country had been a proper empire. It had been within the realm of taste, if not pride, for such things to trigger a passion for history in the young Pavus heir. What wasn’t intended was for Dorian to want to pursue such things himself, especially when staged in the south.

Still, it wasn’t as though his parents’ opinions had a way of reaching Dorian now.

Dorian knew that he and Felix were attracting looks for their traditional Tevinter garb, robes and all, but he had learned how to shrug such things off years ago. He would never have survived his home country if he hadn’t, after all.

He was only listening with half an ear as Felix babbled away about the boy he had been courting. Apparently the object of Felix’s attentions would be dashing about as a knight, which was almost too much when his best friend had already been spending most of his interactions with the other boy blushing and stammering like a damsel in a romance novel.

Dorian knew Carver from the way Felix squeaked, but his breath hitched on the intake when he realized who the man was down in the training ring with.

Of fucking _course_ , Cullen Rutherford would be a knight. The man was involved in almost every sport on campus and donated at the animal shelter, if rumor was to be believed, mostly just to be able to cuddle with every dog it contained.

That he was also near  _painfully_  straight and rather unaware of Dorian’s general existence, however, was quite possibly the bane of Dorian’s life. None of which meant that he was above watching Cullen defend himself so admirably against Carver’s practice blade with a shield and blade of his own. That the two men had tossed their shirts off in the heat—or what passed for it in Ferelden—was simply an excellent side affect.

He wasn’t the only one cheering when Cullen won, although Carver seemed somehow just as proud, especially when he got to receive a kiss from Felix regardless of being defeated.

What Dorian wasn’t expecting was for Cullen to actually follow Carver over, draping his arms over the makeshift fence to catch his breath. “You brought a stave!” he declared.

Dorian managed two rather drawn out blinks. “Excuse me?” he asked.

“Oh! Your…um…” Cullen gestured at the staff strapped to Dorian’s back. “It used to be Tevinter’s primary weapon, right? Although I might have gotten the word wrong.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, grimacing. “Tevinter history isn’t my strong suit.”

“And what  _is_ your strong suit, dare I ask?” Dorian said. 

He certainly wasn’t expecting the grin that was met with or actually enjoying the debate on different historical weapons and the strategies of war, but then he certainly never thought he would be getting Cullen Rutherford’s number either.

 

 


	59. Chapter 59

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The holidays are never the easiest for Dorian and children pickup on more than people might like.

Bart  _liked_  Dorian. So when Da asked if it was okay for the man to move in with them it was an easy answer. They had a whole house, after all, while Dorian only had an apartment, so it made sense for him to want to stay with him. And, besides, with Dorian came all his  _books_ , any of which he could have read to him at night with Dorian doing  _all_  the voices.

Da was also a lot happier when he had someone to give him kisses now.

So when Christmas break began, Bart was extra excited to ensure that everything was just right. Dorian didn’t even seem to mind that some food had to be avoided because of allergies, teaching him how to make Tevinter cookies and food instead, which had more spices then Bart had ever seen but were extra yummy.

If only the phone calls weren’t happening then everything would be fine.

After the first time, Bart pretended not to notice when Dorian slammed the phone down. It had been scary enough to hear Dorian’s voice get sharp like that, but then his eyes had gotten all watery and even hugs from both Bart and Da hadn’t been enough to take it away completely.

So when the phone rang that night while Da was with Dorian in the kitchen having adult beverages, Bart made sure to be the one to pick it up.

“’llo, who is this?”

The voice sounded almost like Dorian’s, but not with the same bright quality. “This is Halward Pavus, my boy. Would my son happen to be around?”

Bart glanced in the direction of the kitchen where he could hear Dorian’s laughter followed by the deep rumble of Da’s voice. “You can’t talk to him if you’re just gonna make him sad again.”

“I…” Halward cleared his throat. “I wasn’t aware that I had been.”

“Yes, you were!” Bart exclaimed. “Cause you work him up until he has to yell and then you make him  _cry_.” He bit down hard on his lip. “Dads don’t do that!”

“Bart?” Da was frowning when Bart jumped at the sound of his voice, bending down to his level. “Who are you on the phone with?”

“I am aware I have made some mistakes,” Halward was saying, “but sometimes fathers must—”

“No!” Bart said. “Fathers only want to make their kids  _happy_  and when they make ‘em sad, it’s by accident. But you make Dorian sad all the time.” He pursed his mouth. “So don’t call back until you can be nice and make Dorian smile like he’s ‘pposed to!” He slammed the phone down then, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t care if I’m in trouble,” he mumbled. “He shouldn’t be able to hurt Dorian. Dads don’t do that!”

“Bart…” Da started, but Bart found himself being scooped up before the rest could come.

“You are quite right,  _amor unus_.” Dorian’s eyes were shiny, but he pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “And I think a display such as that deserves a mug of hot chocolate.”

Bart wiggled his face into Dorian’s plush sweater. “With whip cream  _and_  marshmallows?” he asked.

“But of course!” Dorian declared, bouncing him just to hear him giggle. “What else for my littlest knight?”


	60. Chapter 60

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian resorts to some old tricks to test Cullen.

Despite all evidence to the contrary, Dorian was a man who was well aware of his flaws. It was hard not to be when others strove to educate him so thoroughly to their existence; from his mother tutting over his household expenses to the way Lavellan would start to purse her lips watching him yet another glass of wine.

At least this one was one that he could understand all his own, even if he didn’t want to linger on unpacking the reasons behind it.

Bull had refused, quite unfairly, to aid him in his endeavor, which had left Dorian with one of the bumbling new recruits instead. The boy blushed prettily, at the very least, although that, along with his thick head of golden curls, had had nothing to do with why Dorian had selected him.

Of course not.

After a few tankards of ale it was easy to forget why he shouldn’t let the boy lean so close and to smile at the sensation of fingers slipping up along his wrist. But it was certainly more pleasant then the hand that fixed itself into his collar moments later, hauling him out of the tavern altogether.

“What in the name of…” The rest of Dorian’s words were stolen from him along with his breath as he found himself being slammed up against the side of the nearest building. He struggled against the mouth that slammed over his hard enough to set teeth clanking until he raised his hands to feel a familiar fur ruff. “Cullen?” he panted out when released. “What is the matter with you?”

“You ask me that after…” Cullen grit his teeth together, which would have looked far more attractive were it not for the fury in his eyes. “I though it was clear where we stood, but it appears I was mistaken.”

“No, no, that’s not…” Dorian swallowed hard, forcing himself to remember that this wasn’t like back home. He couldn’t depend on Cullen, of all people, to know all the secret tells and to read between the lines. “It  _wasn’t_  clear, not for me. That’s why I had to—” He gasped at the hand that wrapped around his throat, but then there was a thumb pressing up against his chin to tip his head back to meet a fond if saddened gaze.

“Oh Dorian.” Cullen pressed a kiss to the corner of Dorian’s mouth. “Would you like me to show you?”

Dorian was certainly not above blaming his current state of inebriation for the way his voice broke so desperately around his, “ _Please_ ,” or why Cullen was left to kiss tears from his cheeks by the time he spilled into the man’s gloved hand. 


	61. Chapter 61

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Dorian is the Archon and Cullen is placed rather conveniently under his desk.

With his status as Archon, Dorian had grown used to a certain degree of secrecy having to be cast over his affairs. Even more so since it wasn’t the daughters of nobility that he was plucking up so much as their sons and, on rare occasions, their male slaves. He was sure that it had been something of a relief for Felix, as his right hand as much as his best friend, that work had kept him too busy to engage in any long term dalliances.

Honestly, Felix might have been more put out about his newfound affections for a certain blond Ferelden if the man hadn’t brought a rather surly former Templar along in his entourage as well.

Such as it was Dorian perhaps should have been more suspicious about the easy way Cullen slid under his desk when a rapping at the door disturbed rather delightful period of having the man in his lap. But it took at least halfway through the Captain of the Guard’s regular debrief for Dorian to realize that the fingers at his thighs had been moving with much more intent then to tease.

He managed to raise his fist to his mouth just in time, biting down hard on his thumb when a warm mouth closed around the head of his cock. It took him a moment to realize that the captain had stopped, nodding at him to continue before sliding a hand under the desk to tangle his fingers in a head of blond curls.

He had meant for the sharp tug to be a warning, but the curving of Cullen’s lips around him was about all the warning he got before the man shifted down with careful ease. By the time the tip brushed at the back of the man’s throat, Dorian had all but drawn blood out of his thumb with how hard he had to bite down.

“Your Eminence?” Dorian was unable to hide his irritation as much as he would have liked as he flicked his gaze up to the captain, but the man seemed to take it in stride, if perhaps with more amusement than Dorian would have liked. “Should I increase the rotations then?”

“Yes, yes, whatever you think is best,” Dorian muttered, flicking a hand towards the door. “That will be all.” He was barely able to wait for the door to close to push his chair back just enough to get a proper look at Cullen, lips properly reddened already and staring at him with unabashed pleasure. “And what precisely am I supposed to do with you?”

Cullen dragged his tongue along the underside of Dorian’s mouth as he slid back, which was more than enough to roll a shudder through Dorian. “Ah, well, I’d think you have enough time to put my mouth to use, don’t you?”

His mouth was already dropping open again by the time Dorian yanked him forward by the hair and, Maker’s  _breath_ , Dorian had never done anything to deserve something this good.


	62. Chapter 62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jealousy spawns without any happy soothing of it away.

It wasn’t that Cullen didn’t know how irrational it was. For all his flirting, Dorian was the last person to allow anyone to think he would leave his chosen partner. Coupled with just how often the Iron Bull would remark on how full his hands were with keeping up with Lavellan, it only seemed more out of place for Cullen to feel as he did.

Except Bull had already snagged a fair amount of Dorian’s most intimate firsts and was quite unabashed about broadcasting such things, often suggesting just what Dorian should try on Cullen later. His hands had a way of going everywhere too, such as they were now, resting on Dorian’s shoulders while easing out one kink after another if the groans the man was letting out were any indication.

Lavellan didn’t seem perturbed, but he must have been able to catch that Cullen was, if his babbling was any inclination. By the end, though, he merely slid his own drink over to Cullen altogether, wincing as a particular loud moan was met with Bull’s own chuckles.

“Ah, if you want to…” Lavellan sighed. “Look, I’ll make whatever excuses you want so long as you don’t punch my boyfriend? Because I’m  _pretty_  sure you could at least bruise him up, but I’d like not to think what he might do to you in the process.”

“Sounds about right.” Cullen reached into his pocket to toss down a wad of bills on the table. He wasn’t enough of an asshole to leave without contributing something to the bill, after all. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Lavellan nodded, mouth pursed. “Doesn’t seem like you should be the one apologizing.” He shook his head. “See you on Monday?”

Cullen managed a somewhat jerky nod before beating a path for the door. At least it was somewhat easier to think away from the constant beat of too high music. 

He only managed to get a few steps before the door was being flung open behind him, though, and much as he hoped that it was just someone else heading home, he knew he couldn’t be that lucky.

“Cullen?” The soles of Dorian’s too good boots scraped against the gravel as he beat a path to catch up, snagging Cullen’s shoulder to get him to stop. “Where are you going?”

“Home.” Cullen spread out his hands as he turned around. “What does it matter? You’ll just catch a ride home with Bull anyway.”

“Well, I mean, if that’s what you want me to do?” Dorian dragged his teeth across his bottom lip. “But I don’t know what—”

“You’re kidding.” Cullen hated losing his temper, especially at Dorian since it made the other man look so utterly lost, but he felt so sick to his stomach that he had to do  _something_. “You act like that with Bull and you don’t get why I might… Why I would…” 

To be honest, the last thing he expected Dorian to do was  _laugh_.

“You’re jealous?” Dorian asked. “But that doesn’t make any sense. You’re—”

“Your boyfriend, yeah.” Cullen waved a hand back at the neon lighting of the club. “And that’s your  _ex_ , who for some reason is allowed to be more intimate in public with you than I am.”

“That’s…” Dorian curled his fingers up against his palms, fighting for words in a way Cullen had never seen before. “It’s only because everyone’s already used to seeing us like that, so there will be nothing to report back to my father. But if someone were to report back to him about the two of us then…”

Cullen held up his hands. “Then you’d have to admit to the whole world that I’m more than just your roommate. Which is apparently a stupid hope.”

“You don’t know my father!” Dorian exclaimed. “Or what he could do to you.”

“And that would all make sense,” Cullen said, “if I still thought that  _I_ was what you were afraid of losing instead of your status.” He sighed, leaning over to press a kiss to Dorian’s forehead. “I’ll understand if you spend the night at Bull’s just don’t…. Whatever.”

He was to damn tried to try to decipher whatever curses that Dorian was throwing at his back, but at least he had managed not to cry.


	63. Chapter 63

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I was a bet?"
> 
> Cullen overhears something he wasn't meant to.

Honestly, Cullen should have realized that things were going too well. His life in high school was never going to be easy even without a military based father prompting their relocation all the time. Second hand clothes were more economical when it came to having to dress four children and with his thick, wide rim glasses and braces he looked like every parody of the nerd kid in school.

But this time things had been different. Trevelyan had swept him under her wing and into her group of people from just about every part of the school, making them the uncontested rulers of it all. Not to mention that being there brought him to the attention of Dorian Pavus.

Dorian, who all but ruled the drama department and would have controlled the fashion hierarchy if not for Vivienne. The boy who had gotten into a passionate debate with Cullen about Dungeons and Dragons, of all things, and repaid him for driving him home after school each time in the form of kisses.

Last night had been different, though, with Dorian convincing him to sneak out of the house for something different and altogether better.

So when he got to their usual table out in the courtyard, it was with a spring in his step. It certainly wasn’t that odd to see money being tossed Dorian’s way, especially with the half disappointed looks everyone was wearing against how smug Dorian looked. His boyfriend—it was still a thrill to think like that—did seem to have an uncanny way of succeeding when it came to bets.

When he got close enough to hear what was actually being said, however, he was brought up short.

“Thought it was a safe bet!” Sera said. “Blondie’s knickers were supposed to be sealed up tight.”

“Evidently not as much as you thought.” Trevelyan laughed when Sera blew a raspberry her way. “Admit it, Dorian, of all the people I got you hooked up with Cullen had to have been the best.”

It didn’t seem right for Dorian’s smile to be so soft. “He’s as sweet in bed as out if that’s what you mean. Although the braces certainly added a delightful element that I wasn’t expecting.”

Cullen was left with the sensation of his insides being scooped out as everyone laughed, but at least it gave him the means to do what he did next. Not to mention that it was more than a little satisfying to see just how everyone snapped to attention when he walked up.

“ _Amatus_ , I was half expecting you wouldn’t…” Dorian jumped back along with the rest when Cullen slammed his hand down on the table, staring in confusion at the wad of bills that was left there. “Have I missed something?”

“No, but apparently I have.” The circle of confused stares he was met with only enraged Cullen more, making his smile more sharp than shaky. “Have to pay off my part of the bet, right? Or did you want further proof of just how well Dorian  _fucked me_?” He figured it was the cursing as much as the revelation of being caught that made their mouths drop open, but he outright slapped Trevelyan’s hand away when she tried to reach for him. “Guess that answers that.”

He spun on his heel, unsure of where he was going but knowing that it had to be  _somewhere_. Which made hearing Dorian’s voice behind him all the worse.

“Cullen, wait, it’s not what you… Just because it started out that way doesn’t mean, I don’t…  _Amatus_!”

It was that word, along with the fingers squeezing down on his arm that had Cullen spinning around, fist flying without reason as it knocked Dorian down flat. That the other boy should look so damn betrayed by that wasn’t fair at all.

“I’m not your ‘beloved’ anything,” Cullen spat. “You might like having sex for money, but that’s not what I’m here for. So go find that one ‘amatus’ you haven’t fucked yet in this school.”

At least being such a good student meant that no one at the nurse’s office questioned him when he said he had to go home.

*

Their parents broke the news over that weekend, although, for once, it sounded more like a relief than the hindrance his siblings found it.

“Cullen?” His mom waited until he had looked up from his plate to smile at him. “Do you want to have all your friends over at some point so you can say goodbye before the move? I’m sure you’ll want to stay in touch.”

Cullen hoisted a shoulder up in a loose shrug before prodding at his mashed potatoes. “No, not really.” 


	64. Chapter 64

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian tries to do the noble thing and let Cullen and Octavian go. Neither one approves.

Some days are better than others. The ones where Dorian could keep Octavian enthralled on his knee for hours with merely a book or how the little one would still try to squeak along whenever he broke into Tevene. Or, best of all, how Octavian could awake from a nap to smile to see he was still there before nuzzling back in against his chest to find his heartbeat.

Unfortunately, however, the bad moments tended to overrule the others. Like how Octavian would outright  _howl_  over being handed off to Dorian when Cullen had to take his leave without a single book or song being able to console him. Or how eyes softened at the sight of Cullen balancing their boy on his knee while Dorian was scowled yet, even more so when he would refuse to hand Octavian over to Mother Giselle.

Which was how Dorian found himself knelt before Octavian on his favorite blanket; if the fur ruff so typically Southern could be called that. It was hard to ignore the stirrings of pride at the sight of the boy managing to sit up all on his own, even if he still clutched at handfuls of the fur for purchase as he turned.

“So it’s decided,” he said. “I’ll still be around just not…” He sighed. “I’ll be giving you your space with Cullen—your actual father—and I can return to being the most splendid friend in your arsenal.” He caved in stroking his finger down the curve of a rounded cheek, but restrained, if just barely, from leaning in to bestow the kisses he wanted to. He got the sense that once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

It was just as difficult to pretend not to recognize how confused Cullen was when he declined his offer to sleep in his quarters that night. It was an expression that became more pained as time went on, but Cullen would never press in where he wasn’t wanted. So it was up to Dorian to bestow toys from afar, pretending that Mother Giselle’s looks of approval didn’t make him sick.

He thought it was all going quite well until a bedraggled Cullen stomped up into the library with Octavian wailing loud enough to send Leliana’s birds into a flurry.

“By the Maker!” Dorian exclaimed, leaping up from his chair. “What in the world did you do to him?”

“I don’t know what’s going on between us,” Cullen frowned, “but it’s not fair to hurt Octavian in the process.”

“Excuse  _me_ ,” Dorian bit out, “ _I_ have done nothing! He’s always happiest when with you, so I simply—”

“You,” Cullen cut in, “are impossible.” And he cut off any retort Dorian might have had to that by dropping Octavian into the other man’s arms, leaving Dorian to scramble to get his arms into the proper position.

Octavian managed a few more hiccuping sobs before slapping his hands against Dorian’s cheeks, pursed lips looking remarkably like Cullen. “No.”

“Well there you have it,” Dorian said. “From the mouthes of babes exactly so…” He barely managed to shift Octavian an inch away from himself, however, before the boy snatched onto the belts crossed over his chest.

“ _No_!” Octavian kicked his feet against Dorian’s chest as good measure, as if the wobbling of his bottom lip wasn’t enough. “Stay.”

“But it doesn’t…” Dorian shook his head, fighting back the prickling behind his own eyes. “You have him, so you don’t need—”

He was silenced by Cullen’s lips over his, although at least the man was smiling as he pulled away. “We need  _you_ , Dorian,” he murmured. “Do you honestly expect us to settle for anything less than the best?”


	65. Chapter 65

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen!Little Red Riding Hood.

Even in a town as peaceful as Honnleath, Mrs. Rutherford bestowed the same set of warnings that parents all over did. If any task took them out of the house or, greater yet, outside of the village altogether any of the Rutherford brood were to stick to the path without daring to speak to any stranger that may try to cross before them.

Cullen never complained over hearing the rules repeated, however, even if he was old enough to understand all this and more at seventeen. He knew it was far simpler to nod along with a smile, swearing to obey her words to the letter as she fussed with the fur that lined his red cloak.

If he were to complain nearly as much as Rosalie or Branson did then he would be there for far longer.

Flemeth always told him to pass along his thanks to his mother for being kind enough to send out a stock of supplies, typically sending him off with a cup of tea to warm him or a scone freshly toasted. Still, he caught the eye of her daughter, Morrigan, from time to time and wondered if she knew just how he managed to get to their hut on the outskirts of town so quickly, guessing at the secret paths he had been taught to take by another.

But, all in all, it didn’t mater what she might know so long as he did not speak them to an unkind ear. And since he had done no ill to her or hers he doubted such a day would ever come.

For now, he had more than enough time to slip away to another house, letting his now empty basket tumble to the floor as he slid under the covers which had already been turned down.

“What big arms you have!”

As though there was not a hint of a shudder when Cullen was encircled by them.

“All the better to hold you with, my  _amatus_.”

“What big legs you have!”

“All the better to run with, my  _amatus_.”

Although that was quite the opposite of what the limb sliding between Cullen’s own spread legs was doing. Not that the boy was in any position to complain from the way he rolled his hips upwards to catch a chance at friction.

“What big teeth you’ve got!”

Ah, yes, there was that smile. The one that had convinced Cullen to stray from the path to begin with and which had resulted in him spread out across the grass just like this, the flowers he had been lead to pick scattered around them.

“All the better to eat you up with, my  _amatus_.”

And, of course, that was just what happened. Only perhaps not  _exactly_  how the tale spun later by a woman with a gleam to her golden eyes and feathers in her hair would have you believe.


	66. Chapter 66

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You left your phone number in the library book I just borrowed au"

There were some definite perks to landing a work study at the library, not in the least being that Dorian had wrangled Felix into sharing the other occupancy with him. While it was true that he couldn’t get the discount on materials that other places had assured, he  _could_  check on the status of the books that he might want to claim for himself.

Felix liked to call it low key stalking while Dorian thought of it as dedication. Tomato, to _mato_ , such as it was.

At the very least he wasn’t about to contain his glee when he arrived on his shift to discover that the technical book for the Dragon Age tabletop game had been dropped off in the bin. It was possible that he should have been gentler about dropping the book down onto Felix’s workspace, however, but, in his defense, he was too perturbed to care.

“Someone wrote their  _number_ in here!” he squawked.

“In reference to an actual group starting a tabletop on campus.” Felix blinked up at Dorian through his thick rimmed glasses, although the curve of his mouth was too wry to be innocent. “Thought you’d be pleased.”

“Well by  _that_  maybe, but… You know what I…” Dorian tossed his hands up in the air when his friend at last broke into laughter. “You would be taking this far more seriously if it were one of your books of formulas.”

“You’re assuming that I haven’t written in any of those either.” Felix ignored Dorian’s exasperated huffs to draw the book up to get a better look at the note scrawled within. “Although, actually, this number looks familiar. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen it in Carver’s phone before.” He cast a quick look around the computers grouped around the first floor, grinning at whatever he saw before snagging his own phone.

Not even a second later, a certain blond that Dorian might have been eyeing up since the start of the semester jumped in his seat, scrambling for his phone.

“Oh no, you can’t be…” Dorian snatched the book from Felix’s hand, marching out from behind the circulation desk as much to escape his friend’s rising laughter as to get answers. 

Cullen was already blushing by the time he approached, but the red reached the tips of his ears by the time he opened the book. “I… It was Sera that did that. I told her it was a bad idea, but…” He sighed, scrubbing his hands across his face. “I can pay whatever fine there might be, I swear.”

“Oh, I would expect so.” Dorian cocked his hip against the table, folding his arms over his chest. “Even more so when that fine will be taking me out for coffee. I think you’ve earned a break from work for the night as it is, don’t you?”

And if the way Cullen beamed up at him made him want to blush all the way to the tips of his ears too, well no one needed to know, now did they?


	67. Chapter 67

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian + soulmate marks

The marks never held any sort of weight within Tevinter. Mooning over the ancient tales of love was only natural, but in the real world it was what ran in the blood that was the most important. Which was no doubt why Dorian’s father had deemed him so selfish or, worst yet, tried to use blood magic to make him forget about the mark inked over his chest entirely.

So when he was finally capable of stripping down for a proper wash after the trek from the ruins of Haven to the relative safety of Skyhold, it felt something like a cruel joke to see that vibrant color had invaded the usual blank space between the lines of the lion over his heart.

For a time, at least, he tried to imagine that it was Trevelyan’s handiwork. The man had half hauled him through the gates upon his arrival, after all, which would have been even above the required touch to get his mark to act up and wasn’t as the though the Herald had never shown an interest. At least until the Inquisitor got in a fight of sorts with Sera (mud slinging may have been involved) when she laughed at the deep purplish dragon creeping up around his waist and the Iron Bull was seen flexing the burnished horse on his arm later in the tavern.

Dorian was happy for them, truth be told, if only because  _someone_  needed to be there to lift the weight that Trevelyan insisted on lugging around on his shoulders. Still, it left him at a lost yet again as to who his soul mate was supposed to be. And, although he wasn’t at a lack for offers, falling into bed to forget as he had done in the best felt much more wrong now that he knew his match truly was out there.

A intense cleanse of unnecessary books from the library seemed an excellent way of soothing his irritation. At least until a book tossed over his shoulder was met with a sudden yelp instead of Solas’s usual grumblings. 

“By the Maker.” Cullen was clutching at his reports in one hand, another rubbing at a reddening mark on his forehead. “I meant to bring you the materials you requested, but it would seem I’ve miscalculated.”

“Oh, the aggression was far more aimed at the book then you, I assure you.” Dorian moved forward, brushing Cullen’s fingers out of the way to get a proper look at the mark on he had left. "I would never dare to wreak havoc on such a lovely face.”

At first he thought the hitch of the Commander’s breath came from the compliment, but then the man was shrugging out of his horrendous cloak and even going so far as to undo the straps to his breastplate. 

“Now, now, I don’t think I’ve done anything to inspire—” The rest of Dorian’s words were stolen from him, however, when Cullen rucked up his shirt to reveal a peacock, splashed brilliantly with color. Then the only thing that would come out was, “ _You_.”

“Me.” Cullen’s smile was blinding and his eyes were wet of all the ridiculous things in the world. “I thought… I mean, I know that you and the Inquisitor were…”

“Nothing.” Dorian reached out to cup Cullen’s face in his hands, tugging the man in until their foreheads pressed together. “Nothing compared to this,  _amatus_.”


	68. Chapter 68

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian + growing old together

Even among the serving class people spoke of what it must be like to have a care for his needs in hushed whispers. Although, truth be told, if anyone actually bothered to speak with the servants that tended to his villa, they would be informed that the only true trial was attempting not to reveal their humor when the man would storm in from whatever meeting had secured his attention for the day.

His husband certainly made no such effort.

“Dare I ask,  _amatus_ ,” Dorian demanded, “why I had to learn from Mae, of all people, what you have been insisting on doing behind my back?”

“Always so dramatic,” Cullen remarked, running his fingers through the long hair that would never truly grow thin, despite the gray within it. “Would you prefer that our staff didn’t know how to defend themselves? Or, worst yet, the guards weren’t up to snuff?”

“Be that as it may,” Dorian said, “there is no reason that  _you_  have to be the one running the drills?” His hand settled at Cullen’s elbow, frowning at the slight wince it brought the other man. “You are not as spry as you once were, husband of mine, and Krem is more than capable enough to take a more active role.”

“Why do I get the sense that you’ve already made arrangements for just that?” Cullen asked, brow lifting.

“Because you married a very clever magister?” Dorian leaned forward to press a kiss to the corner of Cullen’s mouth. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I would like to save any fight for the bath I’ve already had drawn.”

“Is that so?” Cullen chuckled at how Dorian still yelped at the hand that came down on his ass, even after all this time. “Are you sure that’s  _all_  you had the bath drawn for?”

“Such a brute!” Yet even Dorian couldn’t keep from smiling in the face of his giggling staff. “I suppose I can allow a few risque behaviors… _if_  you behave.”

“Behave?” Cullen snagged Dorian’s hand, pressing a kiss to the one ring on his finger that mattered most. “I hardly think that was how I secured your heart in the first place, my love.”


	69. Chapter 69

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Go home, your parents are probably wondering where you are."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Underage relationship

In retrospect, Cullen should have known that Dorian Pavus was going to be trouble right from the start.

Cassandra had scoffed over the new, obviously overqualified, professor moving in across the street with his family, but Josephine had insisted that it was only proper to welcome them properly to the neighborhood. Even Leliana had gone along with it, although her reasons for preparing the dainty Orlaisian cakes apparently had more to do with buttering up the man who any of them might one day be stuck with for a teacher.

It hadn’t been Professor Halward Pavus who had opened the door, however, or even his elegantly put together wife. No, instead it had been his son in a neon crop top spelling out something obscene in big block letters that Cullen couldn’t make out because he was trying not to pay attention to just how glorious the kid looked kicked out in damn booty shorts.

Except then the kid had grinned, reaching right through all the assembled ladies to offer his hand to Cullen. “Why hello there, I’m Dorian.” And those fingers had definitely not needed to linger against the inside of Cullen’s wrist for as long as they did.

Dorian had then gone on to spend the whole rest of the summer being an absolute nuisance. If he wasn’t outside sunbathing in practically nothing then he was darting around the pool visible from Cullen’s room in a bathing suit that clung to every inch of his thighs.

Which would have been at least somewhat fine, if Cullen could get off on occasion in the privacy of his room while trying not to focus on the freaking  _sixteen_   _year old_  across the street.

Except then Dorian’s mom was escorting him across the road to ask Cullen whether he might be willing to tutor Dorian for his literature class, even if it was the off season, to get him ready for his next semester. 

The pay, at least so far, had been enough to make up for Dorian’s smug smile when he accepted and the kid was at least intelligent enough to make the lessons enjoyable; if not enough to make Cullen question why the brat even thought he needed the lessons. 

Except he was well aware of the way Dorian would stare at him when he thought he wasn’t looking and he had already had to bat the kid’s foot away more than once before it could inch any further up his leg. He should have realized that it couldn’t go on for ever like that, but it honestly took Dorian greeting him by sliding into his lap to piece it together.

“Oh, come on.” Dorian wound his arms around Cullen’s neck to resist being unseated. “Your roommates are out, right?”

“If you’re not here to learn,” Cullen snapped, “then go  _home_ , Dorian. Your parents are probably wondering where you are.”

Dorian frowned. “No, actually,” he said, “they’re not. Father is out, which means Mother is hardly sober enough to care where I am. So why don’t you just give in already—” He wiggled his ass down against Cullen’s crotch, smirking at the shudder he managed to work out of the man. “—and  _fuck_  me, sir?”

“Because I’m not… Dorian, you can’t just… Enough!” Cullen had to actually lift Dorian off his lap entirely when the boy refused to stop squirming around, dropping him down on the table before rising up from the chair. He cut off any furious words Dorian had for him by locking a hand around the boy’s throat, thumb grazing along the underside of his jaw. “I’m not just going to be another of those men you let into the house at night. Or did you think no one saw that?”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of!” Dorian bit back, fingers curling into fists against the wood of the table. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting—” 

The rest of his words were cut off into a gasp when Cullen increased the pressure on his throat by just a touch. “I never said that.” He leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of Dorian’s mouth. “I want you so bad I can’t  _breathe_  with it. Which is exactly why I won’t be just another fuck to you.”

“But that’s all I…” There were tears rising in the corners of Dorian’s eyes now. “That’s all anyone  _wants_. Any man, at least. That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

Cullen shook his head, expression softening as he shifted his hand to brush away the tears threatening to spill free. “Not here, Dorian,” he said, “not now. If you want more you can have it.”

They would have to talk things over later, find ways to go about this with at least some sense of discretion until Dorian was older. But right now Cullen was more than a little busy with the way Dorian had thrown himself at him for all the kisses in the world.

 

 


	70. Chapter 70

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selkie AU

While other children were lulled to sleep with fairy tales, those in the fishing hamlet of Honnleath were told tales of seals that could shed their skin to become human. It was a right of passage, of sorts, for the girls to try to cry the prescribed seven years into the waves to summon forth a handsome suitor from the sea while others would join the boys in trying to wait up to catch sight of the supposed selkie dances. And, for all the adults might laugh over such habits, more than one fisherman would leave out small offerings to ensure a good catch while avoiding the places where seals grouped on the rocks.

No one needed to be reminded of what could be risked if you struck down something more than what it seemed at sea, after all.

The roar of countless cities had replaced the rhythmic crash of the waves in Cullen’s ears ages ago, however. And, over time, the rounds of bloodshed wiped away memories of a seal that had always swam in close to him or a dark skinned boy that had always left his pillow smelling of seawater when he slipped away.

By the time Cullen finally stumbled back home, he felt more of a hallowed out version of himself then anything else. Helping his brother out at sea helped, although Branson would always shake his head over the seal that would insist on following their boat, even more so when Cullen would speak to it as though it could speak back, tossing some fish back as a reward for gathering up swells close to the boat.

Cullen couldn’t explain what bought him down to the shore when the full moon was high in the sky. It wasn’t as though it was the safest time for the walk along the beach with the spring tide drawing the water in high around his ankles.

He frowned, though, at the sight of a strange outline on the rock outcropping down on the other end of the beach. Walking towards it left his jeans clinging tight to his legs as the water rose towards his thighs, but it was easy to ignore with the surprise of finding a  _man_  lounging on the rocks, wrapped in a seal skin and nothing more.

“ _Finally_.” The man sprung from the rocks, mouth pressed into a pout beneath the curve of his mustache. “You do realize that I had to wait seven years for you to return so I could change again? You have a great deal to make up for, Cullen Stanton Rutherford.”

“I…” Cullen stumbled back when the man sprang up from the rocks, or at least  _tried_  to. The swell of the ocean simply knocked him forward again, which was perhaps just as well since it gave him the chance to catch the man when he tumbled forward on unsteady feet. “How do you know my name?”

“Because your mother used to shout it all the time when you need to come in for the night.” The man wound his arms around Cullen’s neck with a smile. “I tried to follow you, I’ll have you know, but city waters are quite the mess and then you went to the  _desert_  of all places.”

“I… I had a duty,” Cullen managed.

“Hm.” The man pursed his lips. “I have a better one.” He pulled the seal skin free from around his body to drape it over Cullen’s shoulders. “Or did you forget what you promised the first time you stole my skin?”

Cullen raised trembling fingers to the skin around his neck as the memories hit him like a blow to the chest. “Dorian,” he breathed. He shook his head, smile turned tumultuous. “I never stole your skin, you brat.”

“Oh, so know I’m the brat?” Dorian scoffed. “And, no, it was an accident as you insisted.” He rolled his eyes. “Honestly, who tries to  _return_ a selkie’s pelt? That’s not how the any of the stories go.”

“Of course not.” Cullen leaned in to smoother Dorian’s huff with a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “That’s why it’s  _our_  story.” 


	71. Chapter 71

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Phantom of the Opera AU

St. Valentine’s Day had long been stripped of any true importance for Dorian. In the past, he may have taken it as an excuse to search for whatever pleasures the city he was currently residing in could preside. But those days had been stripped away as he fled from that horror of a ritual, the torch startled from the hand that held it until… 

Ah, well, there were reasons as to why he wore the mask.

For now he would have to content himself with the gala performance thrown for the tourists that flooded the Paris streets at such a season. He didn’t doubt that the management had managed to make a mess of his instructions somewhere along the way, but the resulting succession of performances should at least be  _passable_ , if Madame de Fer could drown out the squawking that her counterpart tried to pass off as singing.

It wouldn’t be long before Cullen would be ready to trade his perch in the rafters for Samson’s place on center stage. Only a few short months, perhaps, before a proper accident could be arranged for his boy’s benefit. It would have to be planned perfectly, but then Cullen had never deserved anything less.

He would have turned away then to prepare for the performance were it not for a voice lilting down the darkened halls to reach his ears.

> _“Think of me_  
>  think of me fondly,  
> when we’ve said  
> goodbye.”

Dorian was no doubt making entirely too much noise as he clambered back up the hallway, but his pupil didn’t seem to have realized in the slightest.

Cullen would one day, however unknowingly, claim the grand dressing room that Dorian conducted their lessons in. But for now the boy scorned any of the nearby chairs to kneel before the grand mirror that dominated the room, voice sailing through the rise and fall of every note in the song. There was no trace of his usual anticipation, although perhaps that was because of who he intended the words to reach.

> _“There will_  
>  never be  
> a day, when  
> I won’t think  
> of you …”

Dorian spat out a curse when the cadence of Cullen’s voice was interrupted by a cry of his name, followed closely by Cassandra Pentaghast all but banging her way into the dressing room.

“There you are!” The girl was no doubt in for a scolding from Wynne over the way the silken front of her tutu crumpled against the crossing of her arms, but, judging by the scowl she was sporting, she didn’t much care for such matters at the moment. “Don’t you know that the curtain is about to go up? Wynne will never let any you hear the end of it if you’re late.” She gazed around the room, face softening in curiosity. “What are you even doing here?”

“It’s just… It’s nothing!” Cullen rose to his feet, shaking dust from the nondescript uniform that his role as a stagehand required. “Go tell Wynne that I’ll be just a moment. She needs you more than me right now anyway.”

The roll of Cassandra’s eyes spoke to just what she thought of that, but at least she was gone, slamming the door shut behind her on the way out.

“Sorry about all that. I only wanted to…” Cullen huffed out a laugh to himself, shaking his head. “I don’t even know if you can hear me but…” He hesitated for a moment before pressing his hand to the glass before him, smile small but packed with enough warmth to steal Dorian’s breath away. “Happy Valentine’s Day, angel.”

He was darting away before Dorian could manage to find a word in response, leaving him to content himself with the heat that lingered in the glass as he pressed his hand to it from the other side.


	72. Chapter 72

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bloodborne AU

Dorian spat out a quick curse, feet sliding back on the wet cobblestones—wet from  _what_  he didn’t want to dwell on–as he ducked behind the refuge of a nearby pillar to hide from yet another lumbering horde. He didn’t much fancy bearing the pain of being cute down yet again, only to then endure the reeling moment of being stitched back together again.

He might have given up long ago, found someplace to wait out this scourge until whatever clock counting down the continued night finally ran out, were it not for memories of Felix on his sick bed. It was his friend’s blood that was infected, after all, slowly sapping him of his strength and Yharnam was meant to hold the cure for all such inflictions through its transfusions. The most important of which being Paleblood, upon which Dorian had been sent upon this damnable trial to find.

He chanced a peek around the stone of his hiding place, breathing out in relief to find the streets clear for once. He barely managed to shift an inch forward, however, before a familiar scuffing sound hit his ears, followed by the drag of something disconcertingly sharp against the ground. 

He sucked in a breath before allowing a quick surge of fire to form in his hand, figuring that there truly was nothing for it. If he could push through the majority of the gathering number then perhaps he could have a chance to break for the door. 

His thoughts were abruptly aborted, however, by the swing of something heavy past his face. He thrust his hand up blindly, spell at the ready, yet wasn’t even able to complete the full intent of it before a heavy ax like blade came swinging down, slicing away the arm holding the other offending weapon and soon all the rest of the monster as well.

The newcomer didn’t put away his blade—or was it ax after all?—but he did holster the pistol in his other hand, reaching up to tug down the strip of cloth that had been concealing his mouth. And, oh  _Maker_ , no one had any right to appear so striking when spattered with fresh blood. Although, to be quite far, the man did resemble the angelic figures that Dorian had seen carved into the stone sides of more than one of the churches he had passed by.

“Are you foolish?” the man spat. “What are you doing running around without a weapon?”

Dorian rose a flaming fist with an arched brow. “Perhaps because I  _am_  a weapon.” He frowned at the way the man shifted away at the sight of such an obvious display of magic. But then he supposed wandering the streets of this city for long enough would make anyone wary of magic.

“Very well.” The man swallowed hard, gaze flicking back and forth before tugging he bit of cloth up around his mouth. “We’ll have to equip you properly later. Until then all you need to know is that I’m Cullen and it’s your job to attack from the edges. I need you draw a few of them forward at a time so that I can strike.” He cast a glance back at Dorian over his shoulder as he moved forward. “And whatever you do, don’t allow any of their blood to pass between your lips. It’s…not clean.”

“Simple enough,” Dorian said. He sucked in a sharp breath at the first cry, quickly followed by the hurried scuffle of feet. “Shall we get started then, my dear man?”


	73. Chapter 73

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bloodborne AU

Before there would have been a specific process that Dorian would have had to carry through with prior to this. There had to be a clear establishment of intent on both sides, so not to expose one to ridicule, and then there was the matter of trying to arrange how to go about acting on that attraction.

There wasn’t a sense to trying to carry out any of that now, however. Not when he could remember the horror echoing in Cullen’s voice when he was whisked away before the other man. Or how Dorian had had to hide within the arch of a crypt when one of the demented hounds managed to reach Cullen’s jugular, more than a little terrified that his companion, for the first time, might not be able to return.

Even Blackwall had a tendency to watch the two of them with a far too knowing eyes when they returned for supplies, taking in how Cullen would never allow Dorian to leave until he was entirely satisfied with the state of his armor. And Dorian had discovered Leliana laughing more than once after the doll had said an unknown  _something_  that had rendered Cullen the brightest red imaginable.

So when Cullen lunged for him after they had successfully carved their way into the relatively safe refuge of a church, Dorian gave in without question. There wasn’t any true finesse to the kiss, not when there was limited time to touch and tease, but that didn’t make it any less magnificent. Especially not after Cullen tipped him down onto the altar before a mighty toppled over statue of Andraste, only to dip down between his legs in almost the same breath.

Cullen followed the hard line of Dorian’s cock through his pants with his mouth before working it free altogether. He showed hardly any concern for the hand that tangled in his bright curls almost immediately, merely letting his jaw go slack before loosening as best he could. And if the end result was Dorian fucking down his throat then the moans that rumbled up from Cullen would suggest that he didn’t truly mind. Even more so when there was a line of come to chase from his chin with his tongue when Dorian pulled away at last. 

“Now  _that_ ,” Dorian panted, “was a very different sort of service than what I remembered.”

Cullen somehow managed to smile serenely even while speaking with a voice that had been scrapped raw. “Though all before me is shadow yet shall the Maker be my guide. I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the beyond, for there is no darkness in the Maker’s light and nothing that he has wrought shall be lost.” He shifted his head to press a kiss to Dorian’s thigh. “I love you. Even if this place manages to strip everything else from me it shall not take that. I won’t  _let_  it.”

Dorian sucked in a sharp breath, feeling each word like a physical blow. Yet he couldn’t return them, not without making this moment sound more like a parting than he dared to contemplate. “Have I ever doubted you?” He tugged at Cullen’s hair, thumb sweeping over the man’s forehead. “Now get up here would you? I’m hardly through with you yet.”


	74. Chapter 74

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tipsy Kiss / The Phantom of the Opera AU

If one thing could be spoken in favor of Dorian’s heritage then the ability to identify favorable vintages was definitely it. Such beverages were, of course, meant to be stowed away for parties, but that had never stopped those from within the company, intent on pouching for their own purposes. So why should Dorian pretend to hold himself to a higher level?

At least he could blame the now close to empty wine bottle in his hand as to why his feet brought him down the hall leading to the large mirror he had had replaced with two way glass as of late to suit his own needs. He expected to peer in fondly upon the room, sparing a thought for when break would end and Cullen would tumble back into the space, his voice chasing every last bit of the chill that had descended while he was away.

What he was most certainly  _not_  expecting was to find Cullen with two ladies on either side of him, giggling away with their own bottle of wine.

Sera, at least, was a follow stagehand, who watched the ballerinas far too closely to be of any concern. And, well, Dorian wouldn’t fret after Cassandra half so much if the child wasn’t so damningly hard to read.

“Let’s play spin the bottle!” Sera crowed. She wasn’t against blowing a raspberry barely even a moment later either when Cassandra scoffed at the idea. “What, Cassie, ‘fraid you’re gonna be stuck lip locking me instead of Curly?”

“Shut it,” Cullen mumbled, snatching the bottle from her hands. 

Dorian was very definitely  _not_  holding his breath as Cullen spun the bottle, although he did have to bite down on the inside of his mouth to keep his amusement at bay when the end of the bottle tipped directly towards the mirror. 

Or at least that was the case right up until Cullen shuffled forward on his knees across the carpet to let his lips brush against the mirror. He blushed as Sera teased him for wanting to kiss himself, yet his eyes were locked near dream like still upon the mirror, a little smile curving its way onto his mouth.

That boy, for all his seeming innocence, knew exactly what he had done, damn him. 

Dorian had to spin on his heel then, determined to snag yet another bottle, consequences be damned. Anything to forget how Cullen had looked when he thought he was bestowing a kiss upon an angel instead of a monster.


	75. Chapter 75

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyrium has cost Cullen more than he realized.

It wasn’t as thought Cullen hadn’t known the risks that came with taking lyrium. No initiate was to have their full consent for the trials that would advance them if not properly made aware of what could happen first. Only at the time any danger had seemed the proper sacrifice to make in the pursuit of doing good. Even more so in the golden period of youth when he had imagined that nothing like that could truly touch him. Later, he had almost relished the thought that, one day, he might forget all the horrors that strove to keep him up at night.

Except now he has so much that he wants to remember. Things as small as pretending to be more exasperated than he truly is in order to make his fellow advisors giggle enough to lift the weight from their shoulders, if only for a moment, or the strain in his muscles that comes from a good sparring session with Adaar with the Inquisitor half hauling him the direction of the tavern.

But there is also the way Dorian’s whole face lit up when it got across to him that, yes, he was truly loved or that Octavian prefers fruit to vegetables unless Dorian eats the latter too. He has a whole family now, a home where roots have truly been put down, and a whole collection of things to be proud of.

And, bit by bit, he’s forgetting each and every single one of them.

The month prior he had completely forgotten that Mia was the name of his  _eldest_  sibling, not his youngest. It had been written off as a simple lack of sleep then with Dorian berating him with the familiar lecture of needing to spend more time relaxing than working. Except then, only a few weeks ago, Cullen had stared down Octavian for the better half of an hour until he realized that the strange child addressing him in parental terms was  _his_  and not the product of one of the maids at Skyhold gone astray.

It was only a matter of time before worse happened. He didn’t want to imagine the disaster of forgetting the reasons why his son couldn’t eat anything that had been dosed with peanuts. Or, as if that weren’t bad enough, what could happen if it slipped his mind that the man he had wed was a  _mage_  and reacted as any templar would at an apostate displaying such clear signs of magic.

So here he was at his desk, head cradled in his hands as he ran through one fact after another.

“My name is Cullen Standford… No,  _Stanton_. Cullen Stanton Rutherford. I am a military leader.” The actual title had grown too complicated on his tongue; made even worse in the moments where he slipped into using the templar one by accident. “I  _used_  to be a templar. My parents…are not… They’re not here, but my siblings are. I am married to Dorian Pavus and it doesn’t matter that he’s a mage. Just like it doesn’t matter that Octavian isn’t because he’s my  _son_.”

“Pa?” Octavian’s smile turned shaky at how sharply Cullen’s head snapped up and, Maker, that only made it worse. “Papa said you were busy with ‘portant things, but it’s time for the midday meal. If you don’t come now there won’t be any good food left.”

Cullen’s laughter was more of a huff of breath then any real humor, but at least his boy wouldn’t call him on it. “Tell you what, with weather this good why don’t we horde all the good bits for ourselves and head out for a picnic.” It was worth it for the way Octavian beamed up at him, able to believe that everything would be put to rights by bringing his fathers together again with the sunshine to aid along the warmth of the moment.

It was easy to let the boy grab hold of his hand to haul him off, letting Octavian babble away about any plans he might have. That way he was at least distracted from the fact that Cullen’s smile wasn’t nearly as genuine as it should have been. 

The Wardens were known to slip away when the Call grew to be too much. Perhaps that was just what he could do once Leliana arranged a safe place.

He didn’t want those that he loved to remember him as anything less than they did now.


	76. Chapter 76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian is tranquil, Cullen insists they try everything to undo it. As Dorian gets possessed, Cullen must do what was his very first job at Kinloch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no happiness to be found here.

There was cruelty the world over. Such a fact had hardly been hidden from Cullen for some time. Yet he had been lulled towards believing that Skyhold’s high walls would be enough to keep it at bay for a time. The Inquisitor had already proved capable of mounting odds that should have been incapable, so, whether it be by the Maker or not, being within her presence left you feeling blessed.

Felix had watched his courtship with Dorian with wariness at first, yet it had slowly thawed to fond approval when he realized that Cullen was hardly prepared to try demanding more than a makeshift friendship from someone who could hardly give support. And then the Inquisitor had dragged Cassandra before them both, eyes bright as she explained what had been found within the text of the Seekers. 

It had all seemed to be coming together with Dorian insisting as much as a Tranquil truly could that, yes, of course he wanted to remain with Cullen. If this would ensure the Commander’s happiness than all the better.

Cullen had only hoped that once the Rite was reversed, Dorian would be able to find a way to include him in his own happiness as well.

It should have been a spirit that was drawn forth, any sort of spirit. Cole had murmured to those lingering around the edges, after all, the ones that were attempting to bud forth. Only when the boy began to scream did things take a turn for horror.

A demon had slipped beneath Dorian’s skin instead; one of Desire if the name Cole spat out could be any indication. The bland smile Dorian so typically wore had already begun to shift towards something real yet all the more sinister.

It was only instinct that brought Cullen’s blade to his hand. Yet for all of Felix’s cries reaching a crescendo with Cassandra’s, he didn’t bring a strike down. He waited until Dorian’s fingers had dug into the straps of his breastplate instead, staring down into the haze of purple behind those gray eyes.

“What’s the matter, Commander?” There was a finger stroking the underside of his jaw. “You could have all that you wanted from him now. And he so  _does_  want to make you happy.”

“No.” Cullen shook his head. “No, not like this.” His breath hitched when the fingers turned sharp, sliding into the flesh of his throat like butter as he brought his sword down to bear. 

There was panic all around, he knew, but all he could care for was how those eyes grew all the more human as life slowly slipped away.

“Dorian.” There was blood burbling upon his lips, but he pressed a kiss to the other man’s mouth all the same. “Goodbye, love.” 


	77. Chapter 77

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian is pregnant and demands angry sex from Cullen cuz he's frustrated and horny

Being married off as a result of some tweak within his biology had never appealed to Dorian. About the only good detail he could find within the matter was that his chances of having a man as his spouse were at least increased. He had been entirely unsure at the time, however, whether to thank his friends for playing towards the Archon in his favor when the result was some Southern barbarian as a husband.

Now, however, he was going to have to send them each a fruit basket. Even Livia.

Or, at least, that was exactly what was what he was thinking until the delightful things Cullen was doing with his tongue stopped as the man pulled back.

“Pardon  _me_.” Dorian took some satisfaction in the way that his husband—an alpha of truly impressive caliber and Commander of armies—outright whined at having his hair pulled. “Or was there some miscommunication when I said that I wanted to fuck your mouth until I came down your throat?”

“Hardly,” Cullen chuckled. He shifted to pin Dorian’s wrists above his head, laughing all the more at how his husband squawked at him. “I simply thought this might be more enjoyable.” He didn’t even react when Dorian whapped a heel against his side, simply using his free hand to press two of his fingers up and in.

Dorian thrust his bottom lip out into a pout. “Truly? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your cock already succeeded in fulfilling it’s goal.” His breath hitched around a moan, though, when Cullen slammed his fingers up with intent.

“There are other reasons for sex, love.” Cullen dipped his head down to bite his way into Dorian’s mouth. “Among them is the face you make when taking my knot.”

“ _Brute_ ,” Dorian spat, but seeing as he was currently fucking his way down onto Cullen’s fingers the affect was somewhat ruined.

He got his revenge later anyway when Cullen was draped over him, each love bite that he peppered along the man’s throat only making him thrust up further. He didn’t come hard enough to truly render himself unconscious, but from the spread of darkness before his eyes it was close. He outright laughed, however, when his husband dropped his head to his shoulder with a groan.

“I was meant to be running drills today, you as you well know,” Cullen muttered.

“Let Cassandra see to that.” Dorian squirmed against the knot lodged inside just enough to make his husband groan for an entirely different reason. “You have more important duties to see to.” 


	78. Chapter 78

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let's go get high."
> 
> A slightly more angsty high school au.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: drug use

If you were to see Cullen at any other time, you would have thought butter wouldn’t have melted in his mouth. His seat was always somewhere in the front of each class, hand raised to pose a response to any question posed. Even outside of school he could be found in the family department store, making small talk with all the matrons that flocked in to coo over all the golden haired children.

None of those people would have recognized him as the boy whose jeans hung low enough for a tempting bit of skin to sneak through from underneath his worn tee shirt. All that was missing, quite honestly, was the leather jacket. There was already a cigarette hanging from his mouth—or at least that was what Dorian thought until he got close enough to catch the smell.

“Is that  _weed_?” 

Cullen’s lips curled around the edges of the joint. “What, Pavus?” he said. “You posh lot already moved on to more designer drugs.”

“Hardly,” Dorian snorted. “I’ll leave that up to Rilienus…and Samson, by the sounds of it.”

It seemed foolish that a name could charge up the very air, but somehow it did. For once, Cassandra’s scoff sounded outright mean instead of simply disgusted and even Sera looked ready to leap to her feet. 

Cullen, though, was the one who held all the power to defuse that tension and he waved both girls off. “Seems like.” He could say it casually now, rolling the tension from his shoulders now with a shrug, but he couldn’t fool Dorian into thinking all was forgotten.

It was hard to forget discovering your boyfriend shooting lyrium in a rush through his veins. At this point there was no one who knew that better than Dorian.

Which might have been why Cullen didn’t shove him off when he sat just a little too close, although it couldn’t entirely explain away the reason for the fingers that curled around his jaw or the lips that passed swirling smoke into his mouth.

But then what was it that Felix had said? Take the steps towards recovery one step at a time?

Dorian exhaled the smoke through his nose, mouth to preoccupied with biting its way into Cullen’s own. Well, this was certainly a more enjoyable path than any the therapist had tried to recommend.

Let the rest sort itself out when sobriety hit with the sun.


	79. Chapter 79

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's dangerous for a Royal to be walking around alone." For Cullrian. Maybe Cullen being the Royal and Dorian his bodyguard?

No one understood the need for rules better then Cullen. His mind, if not his body, now bore the evidence of just what could happen when people strayed from what should be done.

Still, that didn’t mean that he approved of the new restrictions that seemed to have been created for the sole purpose of coddling him. There always seemed to be some fresh excuse for why he had to stay indoors instead of joining in on any of the hunts and a mention of wanting to go among the people now required nearly a week long flurry of activity over decisions of how armored his escort should be.

All things considered, Cullen figured that his parents should consider it a blessing that he only decided to escape to the gardens during yet another unnecessary ball instead of trying to slip free from the castle altogether.

Regardless, he hadn’t managed to slip away completely without being seen if the figure waiting for at the elaborate marble fountain was any estimation.

“I would have been fine on my own, Dorian.” He regretted the bite the words passed as soon as they passed his lips, but there was no way to take it back without damaging the other man’s pride.

“Are you certain?” Dorian asked. “I hear the rosebush that your youngest sister insisted be planted has proven quite treacherous.” The corners of his mouth tilted upwards at the bark of laughter that managed to rise from the prince. “And, tiresome as it might be for us both, I was brought here for a very particular service.”

Cullen had to curl his fingers in against his palm to suppress the shiver that threatened to start at the base of his neck. He could well remember how Dorian had arrived here, shocking all with the obvious nobility of his class. When the time came for the faeries to pay tithe it had always been those of common stock that had been offered. And, worse yet, it had been the man’s own father who had all but literally thrown him away.

He had felt the scars that lingered on the arm Dorian kept hidden before, but at least this time his bodyguard didn’t flinch away from the hand curled loosely around his wrist. “I wouldn’t let them send you away.”

The fingers that brushed the curve of his cheek were near whisper soft and there was something bitter twisting the ends of Dorian’s smile. “The things you say, Your Highness,” he said. “One would think you a man in love.”

When would the day come, Cullen wondered, that he could speak such words without believing Dorian was duty bound to obey.


	80. Chapter 80

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen is very sweet throughout the whole of Dorian's pregnancy, but his husband keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop.

As of yet, there had not been a single person who didn’t find some form of cheer in the news. The midwife had displayed more maternal affection than his own mother ever had over being able to confirm the suspicion while the girl who came to change his sheets had actually squealed at the sight of him, eyes bright with joy. There were hearty toasts shouted in the streets near in time with the ringing of the bells while everyone at court seemed unable to stop congratulating him for his good fortune. 

Good fortune, because everyone the world over were in agreement that falling with child while barely out of the honeymoon period was a blessing. A clear sign of the couple’s matched health, if not virility. 

So Dorian was entirely aware how baffling it must be for his husband to watch his behavior become so solemn. It made him feel a twinge of guilt to watch Cullen hover, trying so hard to bring him comfort yet not feeling at ease enough himself to ask for sure what he should do. And that sensation was there because he  _cared_  for Cullen, seeing as he would truly have to be an unfeeling brute not to at least have that in his favor.

Still, he knew what this pregnancy would signify, for all Cullen’s gentleness, and it rankled him to have it come so early.

Dorian waited until Cullen had at last finished stoking the fire to fullness and returned to bed to bring the matter up. He could only leave the other man dangling for so long, after all, before being to feel like something foul. 

“So when will it begin?” He sighed at the furrow that formed between Cullen’s brow, forcing himself to remember that snapping would get him nowhere. “I know there is still quite some time before the confinement where I’ll be locked away proper, but I would at least like some time to prepare for the change in my role.”

“The change in your…” Cullen shifted as though to wrap his arm around him only to hesitate at the last moment, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “Dorian, nothing will change. Well, outside of…” 

It was that little unconscious smile that tugged on his husband’s lips as his eyes strayed to his stomach that did it for Dorian. “Yes, and then my life will be restricted to the child and nothing else.” He huffed. “If you even grant me the proper time to relax between its birth and the next.”

Cullen’s head snapped up, mouth going slack as his eyes widened with hurt. “You… You think I would do that to you?” he demanded.

“Any alpha would,” Dorian said. “Or are you truly going to claim to be so different?”

“Of course I am!” Cullen cupped Dorian’s face between his hands, unwilling to allow the other man to twist his face from sight. “I did not pursue you merely for a breeding partner, Dorian. I will not have you go mad locked away from sight and if you need a break from the child all you would have to do is ask.” He opened his mouth then closed it, shoulders drawing together tight. “And if… If this pregnancy is truly unwanted then there are ways of… I could even—”

“You will do no such thing!” Dorian grabbed Cullen by the back of the neck, tugging the man in so sharply that their foreheads knocked together. “I will not be leaving you…either of you.” He pushed out a heavy breath before pressing his lips with some measure of desperation to the corner of Cullen’s mouth. “Only give me time?”

He relaxed some at being able to feel most of the tension bleed from Cullen’s body, even more so when his husbands arms wound their way around him at last.

“That I can do, my love.”


	81. Chapter 81

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I had this dream where you kissed me, and I kind of want to try it now"

Magic tended to draw one farther into their dreams than most, such were the facts of life. So Dorian had grown used to vivid dreams at a young age, although it took him a bit more time to learn when to cease his prodding and a bit more still to learn to trust his own instincts even more than the runes carved into his headboard.

Which, truth be told, was part of why his latest dream had been so unsettling. He certainly wouldn’t have put it past a particularly cruel Desire demon to have dredged up the feelings he had fought so determinedly to bury. And yet it wasn’t as though he hadn’t dreamt of all he couldn’t have before, with or without the help of demons.

He had been able to keep a handle on himself before, but now, if Cullen were anywhere in the near vicinity, his attention would be stolen as his eyes dropped to the other man’s lips. He had lost track by now of how often he considered what sort of texture the scar would give a kiss (the dream hadn’t let him have that) or what Cullen tasted like, let alone what  _sounds_  he made, deep inside the curves of his mouth.

He was able to play it off while their paths remained uncrossed, but now he was left to jump when Cullen’s hand curled around his own, which had been fiddling with his pawn for far too many minutes now.

“Dorian, are you alright?” Cullen asked.

Drawing a smile onto his face was about as natural to Dorian as breathing. No one had to say it was a true one, but then no one had ever demanded that of him. “It’s sweet of you to ask, Commander,” he said, “but I assure you I’m well. Certainly enough to take your knight in the next move.”

Or, at least, he could if the other man would  _let go_  of his hand.

“Is that so?” Cullen chuckled. He tugged Dorian’s fingers free from the chess piece, thumb trailing over his knuckles. “I… Forgive me if I’ve read things wrong, but for the past few days I’ve been able to think of little else.”

Which was about all the warning Dorian received before Cullen rose enough to lean in across the table, lips skating over his own.

“ _Oh_.” Dorian tipped his mouth up, nipping at Cullen’s bottom lip only to be amazed at how that alone was enough to make the other man tremble. “I thought a man such as yourself would have begun with flowers.”

“That comes next,” Cullen murmured. “After the gardening staff sufficiently scold me for having them discover a way to grow orchids.”

Dorian reached up to curl a hand around the back of Cullen’s neck, feeling as though his laughter had been punched out. “You  _impossible_ man. Get back here so I can properly reward you.” 


	82. Chapter 82

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Pool sex was the worst idea we’ve ever had. Now fuck me right. I can’t do this soft thing.”
> 
> High School AU

For Dorian, summer had always meant a break from his father as well as school. His father tended to remain home more often when the number of people to show their “happy” family off to was maximized. With the school schedule of events stripping that away he was free to organize as many foreign business trips as he pleased while his wife gossiped away and worked on her tan.

It was a fairly open secret what Dorian did while his parents were away, even more so now that he had a boyfriend. Only this time his mother had seemed somewhat relieved to realize that her requests for limited parties would actually be heard.

Truth be told, Cullen kept him too distracted to even think of trying to take on more. Especially since he had talked his boyfriend at  _last_  into seeing just how many places in the house they could conceivably have sex in before their break was up.

It had been a truly marvelous effort right up until the pool, which, so far, had proven to be the exact opposite of what every romantic comedy Felix had ever forced him to set through had promised.

“I’m calling it now even if you won’t,” Dorian muttered. “This is a bust.” He winced as Cullen’s hand caught around the friction of the water around his cock, reminding him yet again of why not everything wet should be used for lube.

“There’s one more thing to try actually.” Cullen outright laughed when Dorian squawked at being lifted up out of the water, limbs scrambling inelegantly as he strove to cling to his boyfriend. He plopped Dorian down on the side of the pool and probably would have to face a good deal of scolding if he hadn’t chose that moment to slide back into the water enough to slip the head of Dorian’s cock into his mouth.

“ _Oh_.” Dorian stared down at Cullen, who currently had one hand braced against the side of the pool to keep him steady. “Are you sure you’re alright down…” The rest of his question was lost in a strangled sound when Cullen shifted forward to slide more of Dorian’s cock down his throat. “Right, never mind.”

His fingers wound up tangled in damp curls at one point, even though his position didn’t allow him much control over the situation. He could only sit there while Cullen swallowed him down again and again, fingers skating against the underside of Dorian’s balls until he left a rather impressive stripe of come across the other boy’s face.

He tightened his grip on Cullen’s hair before the boy could dip under the water to get clean, scooping the come off his face to lick clean instead. 

“So,” he remarked, noticing Cullen’s eyes go dark as he watched him, “pool’s not a total bust then after all.”

 

 


	83. Chapter 83

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen works as a cam boy to pay for college

Shifts at the campus cafe ran consistently late around exam season, which meant that Dorian was more than a fair bit exhausted by the time he got home. It wasn’t enough to keep him from snagging up his laptop on the way to his bed, though. He had gotten home at a perfect time to tune into what had become his show of choice over the past few months. He had already missed the first handful of minutes or so, but Cullen typically took a bit of time to wrap up his introductions.

Or at least that was what Dorian thought until the video sprung to life on Cullen being drawn into kisses from a hulking Qunari via a handful of his curls while another man sucked an impressive number of love bites up the curve of Cullen’s throat. 

Dorian almost slammed his computer shut, but wound up curling his fingers into the sheets to stop himself instead. It wasn’t like he had never watched a threesome—sometimes even  _more_  than that—when he went searching for porn and all three men involved were certainly more attractive than most that tried their hand at this sort of thing.

Things shouldn’t change just because he knew how inspiring Cullen could sound when he launched into a debate in class he believed in or that he would add more cream and sugar into his coffee than people expected, treating it like it was some sort of indulgence.

No, absolutely none of that should matter.

Except it was one thing to think all of that and quite another to watch the Iron Bull’s fingers curling into the chain of Cullen’s necklace as he fucked up into him. The same necklace that Cullen had stared at with wide eyes through the window of the antiques shop, only to quite literally wilt when he realized it was outside of his price range. And yet his face had lit up like the damn  _sun_  when he realized that Dorian had bought it for him as a Christmas gift.

The aesthetic of it all was enough to get Dorian hard despite the bitter taste in his mouth. He didn’t reach down to fist a hand around his cock either, not even when Max turned from teasing sucks to swallowing Cullen’s own cock down to the root, causing the other boy’s sounds to hitch up for a telling reason.

Dorian was about to consider leaving the video after all when, all of a sudden, Cullen gasped out something that made him freeze.

“Dori—”

He slammed his fist into his mouth before he could finish the name, biting down as his knuckles as he came with a shout, but that didn’t stop Dorian from realizing exactly what Cullen had meant.

The meaning wasn’t lost on Bull either apparently since he was smiling as he bent down to press a kiss to Cullen’s shoulder. “Looks like our boy’s got a crush,” he said. “Did he not tell you about that?”

“Nope.” Max was thumbing off the cum that had gathered on his thumb, grinning around it when Cullen scowled down at him. “Don’t think  _we’re_  exactly the ones he should be telling, though.”

Bull was saying something else then, but Dorian slammed his laptop shut in the middle of it, already dashing to where he remembered throwing off his coat.

*

Dorian didn’t run to Cullen’s apartment or anything quite so gauche, but he certainly wasn’t above shelling out the money for a cab.

It was clear that the scene had ended by the time he got there, given the new, comfier clothes that Cullen was wearing and how his curls had been darkened from a shower. 

His eyes went wide upon opening the door, trying to shift to cover up what was going on in the apartment. It was a failed effort, honestly, given the sheer size of Bull, but Dorian wasn’t about to crush Cullen’s hopes. “Dorian? What are you doing here?” He seemed to realize the way that Dorian’s gaze was lingering him then since he slapped a hand belatedly to cover up the numerous hickies decorating his neck.

“I’ve got a lot of explaining to do about that, actually,” Dorian admitted, “but first…” He reached out to hook his fingers into the loose collar of Cullen’s tee shirt, drawing him in for a kiss.

It was far gentler than any of the ones Dorian had seen Cullen engage in on camera, but then the other boy had certainly never  _smiled_  into any of those kisses either so Dorian was going to count this for a win.


	84. Chapter 84

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where the Inquisition is actually a gang in Modern AU

For one Dorian Pavus, the concept of things running smoothly was actually a bit of a laugh. He only wound up so far from home because his father had been displeased with what tearing his room apart in a “security check” had revealed. It meant that he had to live in a cramped studio apartment above the used bookstore at which he worked, but it was certainly better than the camp—and he did use that term loosely—his father had wanted to send him to.

He would have been more excited about the prospects of flirting with whatever boy walked through the shop doors without fear of persecution, if each wasn’t the same pretentious hipster, thinking it made them cool to wax poetic about  _Lolita_ instead of creepy. 

Although, to be fair, that was no doubt why Cullen had stood out so much. The leather jacket shone amongst the plaid and when he got up to pay for his book— _War and Peace_ , of all things—there was a lingering scent of blood in the air instead of cologne. 

He let the man fuck him against the wall of his apartment the first time Cullen stayed until closing to talk to him. Then he had gotten to sit around, strangely charmed, as Cullen insisted on making a full meal for him, transforming his regular pasta into something magical with the right sort of sauce.

If Cullen arrived on his doorstep with a couple of bruises decorating his lovely face or knuckles wrapped over scabbing injuries then it all seemed an easy price to pay for kisses so sweet it was hard not to cry in their wake.

At least until Cullen swore, somewhere into their third week of proper dating, that he was part of a gang, cutting the laughter Dorian erupted into short by tugging off his shirt.

Someone had  _cut through_  the flaming sword of a Templar on the right side of his chest, yet all but directly above his heart was another sort of sort, this one emblazoned eye of Andraste.

“ _Vishante kaffas_ , you’re Inquisition!”

Cullen winced, reaching up to rub at that back of his neck. Somehow that familiar gesture grounded Dorian even as the world threatened to knock completely off kilter. “The Commander actually.” He thrust his hands up at Dorian’s yelp. “We’re doing good, though! All the infighting wouldn’t have been stopped with the Inquisitor and if things keep heading the way that they are—”

“You might wind up killed.” Dorian had seen footage of Corypheus’ members across every news station for months now. It was certainly why more than a few people still gave him a wary eye when he walked down the street. “Unless I help.” He forced a smile when Cullen gaped, winding his arms around the man’s neck. “You’ve seen the work I can do with magic yourself. Besides, it would do some good for people to see that not  _all_ of my country wants to follow around a madman. Who knows, perhaps Tevinter will ship down a medal.”

“I love you too much for…” Cullen trailed off when Dorian inhaled sharply, dropping his head. “I  _do_.”

“I never said you didn’t,  _amatus_.” Dorian slid his fingers beneath Cullen’s chin to draw him back up, easing him into a kiss. “I will want to hear it every day of the week, however. Sometimes  _twice_. So you had best survive, Commander.”


	85. Chapter 85

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gang AU where it becomes known why laying a hand on Dorian is a bad idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: for expected violence

Cullen had been dragged through hell only to be spat out into war. He wasn’t exaggerating when it came to that, nor was he prone to metaphors. For any other person, what he had been through, let alone what he had borne witness to, should have been enough for him to shut his eyes against the world. He had seen it happen in more than a few of his former comrades, all former shells of what they had once been.

Perhaps that’s what would have happened had Cassandra not plucked him up to show him a better use for his particular talents. He had given up trying to pick apart such details quite some ago, not wanting to continue picking at a wound that was so near to healing.

To be fair, something like  _this_  wasn’t usually within his range of work. That was for Leliana, who was perched in a folding chair as though it were a throne. She lifted her eyebrows when Cullen didn’t go for any of the impressive number of “tools” laid out on the table near her, only to hum her approval when his fist landed across the face of the man hanging from his wrists in the middle of the warehouse.

The man had been one of Leliana’s men before he was turned, pouring lintel into the wrong ears while feeding their own false information.

“Do you know what you cost us?” Cullen aimed for the kidneys next, hardly caring to hear the answer. “Do you know  _who_  you almost cost us?” He knew it had registered when the man’s eyes widened, a squeak breaking free from already sore lips as he was yanked forward by a hand around his throat. “Leliana trains your lot well, but I wonder…how long until you scream?”

*

The hospital staff knew better than to ask questions when Cullen arrived, eyes skating away from the already darkening bandages wrapped around his fists. He had his own men guarding the door anyway, who parted without a word when he nodded at them. 

Dorian was asleep within the room, but Cullen was content to simply curl in as close as he could from where he was on the shoddy plastic chair. He kept one hand on Dorian’s stomach to measure the steady rhythm of Dorian’s breaths and his head on the man’s chest to hear that precious heart keep beating.

_Here, here, you’re here and **mine**._

 

 


	86. Chapter 86

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cutthroat Kitchen AU

A sizable chunk of the advantages that people concocted when it came to the possibility of dating a chef tended to disappear when you were a chef as well. Fortunately, Cullen loved the banter that came with almost every meal about as much as he loved everything else about his boyfriend.

Even if the man could be more than a bit impossible at times.

“Put that whisk down before you overfold!” Dorian narrowed his eyes at the eggy mixture. “Are you sure you didn’t just grab these straight from the fridge? You’re not going to get the same lift if the eggs are too cold.”

“Isn’t there some adage about too many cooks in the kitchen?” Cullen chuckled when that earned him a swat to the ass. “You think winning that competition would have you trusting me.”

“It was a lucky break,” Dorian said.

“A lucky…” Cullen ceased his whisking to stare incredulously at his boyfriend. “You made me bake with a  _kiddy_  kitchen the final round!”

“Don’t you mean one meant for dwarves?” Dorian asked. His rich laughter almost drowned out Cullen’s groan. “I’m not sure Varric has entirely forgiven you for that, you know.”

“No.”  Cullen reached over to pluck a miniature whisk from amongst all the larger utensils shoved into the stoneware holder. “Do you think?” He waved the whisk dangerously close to Dorian’s mustache until the other man swatted his hand away.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Dorian snapped.

It was hard to take him seriously, however, perched up there on the counter with what was clearly the start of a pout forming on his lips. But the latter was easy to kiss away, even more so when Cullen could work his hands up under the too big tee shirt Dorian was wearing.

The soufflé had to be abandoned in the end, but it meant Dorian got to badger Carver Hawke (and by extension Felix) for takeout all while pressed up against Cullen in his favorite spot in bed.


	87. Chapter 87

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I had no idea you felt like that about me. I thought you were just interested in me as a friend. I’m sorry.”

Cullen had already learned that a warm reception didn’t always hold the promise of something more. Not that he held any bitterness towards Surana over how everything had unfolded. It was more than enough, truth be told, to see her reveling in the freedom he had always known she needed. And, regardless, it would have been difficult to feel any true hint of jealousy when it was clear how head over heels Alistair was for her.

So when Dorian issued an official missive for their unexpected chess match to turn into a daily event, Cullen didn’t read too far into the matter. It was pleasant enough, to put it mildly, to have formed a friendship outside of his fellow advisors and to have someone show concern for his wellbeing other than Cassandra.

The fresh supply of potions meant to ease his withdrawals spoke of the care anyone would take in their friend’s wellbeing. And, of course, Cullen had been touched enough to return the gesture, arranging with the quartermaster to gather the texts that Dorian always complained the library was in want of.

It was a true friendship; one that Cullen took pride in still being able to maintain after all that had happened. Which was precisely why he was shocked to silence when Dorian leaned across the chess table one afternoon to kiss him.

“Ah.” The corners of Dorian’s mouth twitched, but it wasn’t a smile, not when the man was ducking his head to hide whatever was in his eyes. “I had gained the impression that such things were more open in the South. Foolish of me, though, to think that meant all indulged in it.”

“No, wait, that’s not…” Cullen shook his head, aware that he must resemble a dog shaking itself free of water yet not being able to do a thing to stop it. “I merely had no thought that your feelings veered towards… _that_. I was under the impression that you merely wanted to be my friend.” He glanced down at his hand, easing the chess piece he hadn’t realized he had been clutching to free from his grasp. “I was… I was proud that you would want even that.”

“Your self-esteem,” Dorian snorted, “needs a considerable amount of work, as ever.” He hesitated before reaching over to press his fingers to the back of Cullen’s hand. “But, now that you do know, do you wish you hadn’t?”

Cullen was silent for one long moment before turning his hand over to clasp Dorian’s own. “Not quite.” He lifted Dorian’s hand up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the knuckles only to chuckle at Dorian’s sharp intake of breath. “I would like to do this properly, though. I believe we already took care of the exchanging of gifts without me properly taking note, but I do believe there’s a cafe in Val Royeaux that you were hoping for a reservation at?”

“You want to…” Dorian spluttered at him, free hand waving in the air. “You want to  _court_  me?”

“I do believe that is what one does with someone they care about.” Cullen felt as giddy as a fresh recruit as he rose to his feet, offering a small bow that did little to hide his grin. “Your move, Lord Pavus.”

This time when he was kissed he made certain to press back, no matter the gasps of the ogling Chantry sisters.


	88. Chapter 88

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Labyrinth AU

“You’re running out of time.”

Cullen had experienced a great deal since being confined within the labyrinth; from creatures that would only offer aid in exchange for the answers to their riddles to a horrible smelling bog that had tried to swallow him entirely. And yet, despite all the rest, it was the easy roll of that voice that made him jump with true alarm.

The Goblin King was lounging, of all places, atop one of the walls that made up the labyrinth. He looked like any other fine ornament that bedecked the place, as though it were all a part of him and, given all the complex twists that made up its beauty, it wouldn’t have come as a surprise if that was the case.

“Trying to distract me won’t work,” Cullen said. The labyrinth did that enough as it was, already having made a mess of the markings he had tried to use to keep track of where he was. Relying on the inhabits down below, as strange as any might be, had proven to be a far better plan and had even won him more friends than the King had apparently expected.

“Of course not.” Dorian chuckled when Cullen scowled in response to his teasing tone. “Come now, in nine hours and…ah…twenty-three minutes your sister will be mine.” He drummed his fingers against the stone, smile widening. “ _Or_  you could offer yourself up in her place.”

“What?” Cullen said. “You never said that could happen!”

“You were so determined to play the hero,” Dorian said, “it seemed cruel to stop you. But, yes, you could make such a trade. You wouldn’t even have to be turned into a goblin if you did as I say.”

“If I let you rule me,” Cullen translated, the words bitter in his mouth. “No, that’s not how it should be. We should be  _equals_.”

“Ah.” If Cullen didn’t know better he would say that the Goblin King actually sounded sad. “But then you would have all the power you needed to flee from me. I am no fool, Cullen.”

“Yes, you are,” Cullen said. “If you think my surrender would mean so little.” He spun on his heel. “By the time I defeat your labyrinth you’ll understand. And if not…then I can’t be yours.”

He had to curl his fingers into his palm to keep from shivering at the voice that seemed to echo right at his ear.

“We shall see, little knight.”


	89. Chapter 89

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hogwarts AU

Strictly speaking, each house had their own table assigned to them, but no one really paid that any heed beyond their first year. And, even if that were not the case, Dorian was certain that his own eclectic group of friends would found a way to wiggle through, if not out right bash down, any such rules.

Or, to be honest, Dorian might have waged his own war, if only to ensure he could still spend every meal time he could pressed up against Cullen on one of the benches. Especially now when it had become one of the best ways to stick close for an extended amount of time. 

(The tables might not be assigned, but the common rooms and such  _were_ , as discovered through more than a few threatened detentions.)

It seemed like far less of a blessing, however, when Cullen almost unseated him once the mail had swooped in. 

“Bloody hell, Cullen!” He determinedly ignored the stern look cast his way by the Ravenclaw prefect for such language. “Your care package from home can’t be  _that_  questionable.” The silence he got in response should have been a clue, but it was still alarming to right himself on the bench only to find Cullen staring, pale faced, at a certain scarlet envelope.

Howlers had always been Halward Pavus’ preferred way of conveying his displeasure with his sole heir, yet Dorian could count the times he had had heard either Rutherford parent raise their voice on one hand.

He didn’t have time to question Cullen on who the sender might be either since the other boy bolted out of the Great Hall. To be fair, outside of a few snickers or raised eyebrows, the event wasn’t all that strange. No one really wanted to be around others when a Howler inevitably erupted, after all.

That was how Dorian had felt up until his first year when Cullen had held his hand while his father’s voice bellowed over the disappointment in his choice in house. And, seeing as this couldn’t be Cullen’s parents, it had to be some sort of prank, which gave Dorian all the more reason to dash after his friend. 

Cullen had developed a strange determination to be there for Dorian, no matter how ugly things in life could become. There wasn’t a chance that Dorian couldn’t at least  _try_ to do the same.

Given all his Quidditch practice, Cullen wasn’t an easy person to catch, but there was only so long one could avoid a Howler before it exploded to insure its delivery. So, in the end, all Dorian had to do was trace the echoing voice into an empty classroom.

He had already been able to tell through the door, but he still arched a brow at the sound of Mia’s voice. Having met Cullen’s elder sister, he was simply surprised that she needed a Howler at all to increase the volume of her words.

“Do you see what you’ve reduced me to, Cullen Stanton Rutherford? I warned you this would happen in my last letter, which I suppose you never read since you never wrote back. A bit of courage never hurt anyone, you know. You’re a Gryffindor, for Merlin’s sake. So tell Dorian  _now_ or, I swear, I will get our siblings involved and you know what a mess that will be. Your loving sister, Mia. P.S.: Seriously, just  _kiss_  the poor boy. I see how he looks at you.”

“Um…” Cullen still had his hands cupped over his ears, all the blood in his body having rushed to his face. “There really is no hope of you not having heard that, is there.”

“No, there’s not,” Dorian admitted. He did his best not to laugh at the little squeak that escaped from Cullen before he managed to brush his lips over the other boy’s own. “I would prefer to be taken to the Three Broomsticks over Madame Puddifoot’s Tea Shop, however. No matter what accolades Josephine gives the place.”

“Oh.” Cullen managed a few rapid blinks before a small smile curled over his mouth. “ _Oh_.” He pressed his forehead to Dorian’s. “How many times am I allowed to kiss you until then?”

“Well, now,” Dorian said, already curling his fingers into Cullen’s robes, “enough to distract me from actually going  _out_  at all, I’m sure.” 


	90. Chapter 90

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you like it? How much would you like it off of me?”

No amount of hissed whispers or sharply cut glances would ever be enough to make Dorian regret allowing his lover to follow him to Tevinter. He  _did_  regret, however, how difficult Cullen was finding it to adapt to all the changes in lifestyle that the North had to offer.

Any complaints about the heat, humidity clinging to the skin on any given day, were easily cured with an introduction to the luxurious private baths of the Pavus estate. But not every situation could be so effortlessly diffused, as had been made clear by how many comments over his heritage Cullen had had to grit his teeth over or how he still flinched at casual comments made about the treatment of someone’s slaves, despite having convinced Dorian to free all of his own.

He knew that Cullen was far too devoted to leave him over such matters, but if everything in Tevinter seemed to make Cullen unhappy than how long would it be before he connected all that to Dorian as well?

The meeting of the Magisterium had been dragged on through petty bickering, so by the time Dorian returned home at last, all he had any focus on was retreating into his chambers. It meant that he missed the secretive, somewhat amused smiles of his servants, but that only meant that what awaited him when he crossed the threshold of his rooms was all the more a surprise.

Dorian’s first thought, as his eyes traced the splay of Cullen’s legs up to where the fabric hid those muscled thighs from view, was how his lover had managed to hide the creation of such a garment. The silk was a vibrant shade of red, interworked with fine golden thread that lead up to the fur ruff of the collar, making the kaftan almost resemble the cloak that had all but been a part of Cullen at Skyhold.

“Dorian?” There was a wry quality to Cullen’s tone, despite the nervous lift of his smile. “Do you like it?”

“I am afraid that might be an understatement,  _amatus_ ,” Dorian murmured. All it took was a hand at Cullen’s knee to coax his lover’s legs open, allowing him to slide between them. “You won’t be able to wear this in public, I fear.”

“I’ll have to send Mae a box of her favorite chocolates then.” Cullen silenced an inquisitive noise from Dorian with a kiss, using his leverage to roll Dorian over onto his back.

Dorian was about to raise the question of how exactly he was to get out of his clothes now when Cullen unfastened the holdings of his trousers, stroking him to full hardness. He barely even had a chance to scramble for Cullen’s hips before the other man was easing down onto his cock, revealing that he had been taken far more care than expected when preparing for the night.

And as magnificent as Cullen looked in the kaftan itself, it was nothing compared to how he looked when riding Dorian, the flush of color rising up his chest a near complementary shade to all that silk.

He forbid Dorian’s order not to wear it publicly only a week later when he had Lord Caius choking on his mouthful of wine after responding to the title of dog lord with an inquiry, in all sweetness, to the lord’s heavily pregnant and husband free daughter. 

Dorian was no longer worried over whether his lover would flee Tevinter and himself by extension. No, now he had to fret over how he was ever going to find the willpower to leave Cullen’s side.

Maker help him.


	91. Chapter 91

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last thing Dorian's looking for right now is a soulmate.

There had been many things that had driven Dorian towards Haven and, in short order, Skyhold. He could at least do himself the decency admitting that he had done it all primarily because it was the right thing to do. And yet he wouldn’t have even had the chance to be there were not for his father’s horrible attempt at forbidden spell work.

A spell which he had used the blood—and through that the  _life_ —of the man that Dorian had loved to try to achieve.

It was true that Rilienus had sported a mark over his heart that wasn’t Dorian’s own, but that had never mattered to either of them. What was a soulmate to the warmth of Rilienus’ smiles or the sweetness of his kisses?

So when he caught the Commander of the Inquisition training with his chest scandalously bare only to see the Pavus crest stamped over the upper left of the man’s broad chest… _well_. 

At least the man had had enough tact to understand that such things were better not spoken of, although that hadn’t stopped the terribly woe-begotten looks he angled Dorian’s way every so often.

Dorian had no need of a soulmate, especially not now when it would only be another life weighing heavy on his soul.

Only here he was, tucked into the infirmary to clutch at Cullen’s hand while the poison was slowly eased free from his festered wound with the aid of tonics and bandages soaked with lotions that made Dorian’s nose clog.

“You are not allowed to die on me, you  _infuriating_  man,” he bit out. “Not before I even have the chance to…” He rested his forehead against Cullen’s hand, allowing his voice to clog with tears while there was no one to bear witness. “I was wrong, is that what you want to hear? I was  _wrong_ , and if you don’t survive long enough for me to hear your voice again than I might actually go mad.”

“All you ever had to do was ask.”

The voice was more of a croak than anything else and Cullen winced a touch when Dorian threw his arms around his neck, but none of that was enough to keep him from holding the other half of his heart just as close.


	92. Chapter 92

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm here for my daily fix of hugs and kisses."

By this point, it wasn’t much of a surprise for any Inquisition soldier to discover the Tevinter mage in their Commander’s office when it came time to deliver reports. There had been some bellyaching about the Commander being off the market for good, but, after squashing out any foolish comments about blood magic, all was well.

That didn’t mean, though, that more than a few soldiers weren’t brought up short by discovering Dorian on their Commander’s  _desk_ , of all places.

Cullen sighed as yet another soldier skittered out, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Dorian,” he managed, “is this really necessary?”

“I would say it is.” Dorian crossed one leg in front of the other, barely avoiding trampling on Cullen’s documents. “One, perhaps even two missed games of chess I could forgive, but it’s an entire week with barely any sight of you.” His bottom lip was veering dangerously close to something Cullen knew he wouldn’t be allowed to call a pout, at least not out loud. “You even fell asleep during dinner.”

“I apologized for that,” Cullen said, the tops of his ears burning in memory.

“That you did,” Dorian said, “and very sweetly. But, as your see, you have made me grow to expect a certain amount of…” The rest of his words were stolen by a sharp inhale as Cullen tugged on his neck to pull him close enough to press a kiss to his cheek. “You brute!” he cried, although his laughter ruined any attempt at scolding. “You didn’t let me finish.”

“Ah, of course.” Cullen dropped back into his chair, biting down on the inside of his cheek in an attempt to hide his smile, if not his amusement. “Please feel free to continue being adorable at leisure.”

Neither heard the door open a handful of minutes later, but the soldier in question was all too ready to sneak back out with a smile at seeing that the Commander was occupied with a Tevinter mage in his arms that seemed  _very_  determined to get every kiss possible.


	93. Chapter 93

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some further Labyrinth AU

It was over, Dorian knew. Their game had ended in perhaps the only way it could. He had shown Cullen how easy it could be to simply take his dreams instead. All he had asked for was to be feared, to be loved and for that he would have been willing to surrender anything.

But Cullen had shook it all away, realizing, no matter how Dorian might wish it otherwise, that the Goblin King had no power over him. He hadn’t even spared a moment for fear before leaping off the ledge of the twisting stairs to save his sister from tumbling into the well.

It was done.

He made sure that Cullen was delivered home safely, at the very least, along with the sister that the boy rushed upstairs to check on, pressing a kiss to her downy cheek before tucking her into bed.

He would have flown away then, resisting the urge to linger any longer—either in his own form or that of the raven—since he had no interest in having his heartbroken further. And yet then the windows to Cullen’s bedroom were being unlatched to be thrown open with the boy smiling as he leaned out into the cool night air.

“Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I fought my way to the castle beyond the Goblin City, for my will is as strong as yours and my kingdom as great.” He braced his hands on the window ledge. “And my heart is yours.” _  
_

 _What_?

“So I wish that the King of the Goblins would come and take me away.” Cullen pushed off away from the window with a grin. “Right now.”

And, oh, what goblin, let alone their  _king_ , had ever been able to resist a wish.


	94. Chapter 94

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This whole time I've been using you to make me feel better, and you never caught on. You never caught on. I want you to hate me now but I don't think you're even able too."

It hadn’t begun as a bet, at least not entirely. At best, it was a challenge laid down—probably with far less intent than Dorian had read in it—by the Iron Bull, who had caught Dorian eyeing up the Commander on one of his rare trips into the tavern only to snort.

“Don’t think slippery ‘vints are to his taste.”

“Excuse  _you_ , a man like myself is akin to excellent wine—to  _everyone’s_  tastes.”

All in all, it had been ridiculously easy to lure Cullen in, easing the man out of his shell with a hint of flirtation with each game of chess. Something that soon extended over into private dinners and kisses sweet enough to make Dorian’s teeth ache afterwards.

He hadn’t basked in the warmth of such gazes since the incident with Rilienus. Unlike in Tevinter, however, Cullen actually spoke the words, even if he never judged Dorian for not returning them. He was forever content with simply hearing Dorian use the title of  _amatus_  for him, never realizing that there was always a layer of bitterness across Dorian’s tongue when he used it.

Would he ever be able to use the title without thinking of a bloodied body upon the floor at his father’s feet, amber eyes gone dark?

He would have thought that his return to Tevinter would have been a signal to Cullen that things were best brought to an end or, at the very least, pass along the suspicion that he was far less important than originally thought. Yet the letters shipped up from the South never ceased coming, no matter how short he was in his own responses.

The worst part about it was that Dorian knew exactly what needed to be said to lay it all to rest. How could he not after having such words angled at him each time he fell too hard, too fast for the allure of false gold?

And yet he burned each letter brimming with those cruel words that he drafted while keeping each of Cullen’s own.

“Oh, my darling boy.” Maevaris was lounging on a settee placed on one of the many balconies at the Pavus estate, having long given up on drinking her wine to stare at Dorian from under arched eyebrows. “It sounds as though you’ve gone and sold your heart away without intending to yet again.”

“This isn’t love, Mae.” Dorian’s fingers curled against the railing, shutting his eyes against the setting sun. “It feels a great deal more like madness.”

Maevaris’ laughter was prompt, although not entirely unkind. “Since when,” she asked, “has there ever been a difference?”


	95. Chapter 95

Cullen was rather vividly remained at some point in the next morning why exactly he never went partying with the elder Hawke twins. His head was aching even without the trill of his phone playing near his ear while his mouth was terribly dry as he fumbled for his phone.

The real surprise was that it was Bethany who had apparently texted him. He had only given out his number to her for emergencies after Carver, in a panic before leaving to visit his boyfriend a country away, thought giving his sister the contact number of their “friendly police officer” would be the best bet.

He was fairly certain no one would  _ever_  try to make the claim that the Hawke family were a normal bunch.

> _word on the street is you got laid last night. i need all the deets! <3_

Cullen frowned at the increasingly blurry screen, quite unsure he had not the slightest clue what Bethany was talking about. He certainly hadn’t brought anyone back to his apartment the night before. He knew what a mess he was when drunk, after all, and was more than certain that very few people (at least the ones with good intentions) wanted to bother with that.

Which was precisely why he threw his phone across the bed when the door to his bedroom was pushed open.

“ _Well_.” And, oh no, there was only one person that voice could belong to, but there was no way he could be in Cullen’s apartment. Yet when Cullen managed to peek through the cracks of his fingers after having shoved his hands over his eyes, there was Dorian Pavus in all his glory. “Can’t say I’ve had that particular reaction to my presence, but there’s always a first.”

“I would say you’re a mirage,” Cullen said, “but I remember you’re the only one who can make coffee smell that good.”

“I’m flattered, as ever.” Dorian was careful not to upset the mugs as he sat down on the bed, passing one over to Cullen with a furrowed brow. “Is it safe to assume that you don’t remember what happened last night?”

“Um…no.” There was no use in trying to hide his blush when the red smear was already traveling down his bare chest. “Did we… That is to say…”

“No,” Dorian said. “I’ve never been one for poaching drunks, but you weren’t in a good enough way to get home by yourself, so I just…” He tapered off with a sheepish smile. “I stayed on the couch.”

“I wouldn’t have minded if you hadn’t.” Cullen would have regretted the easy way those words dropped out of his mouth were it not for the dusky pink that seared a lovely arch across Dorian’s cheekbones. “I won’t be able to take you out to breakfast, but I could probably do dinner.”

“Only if takeout is involved,” Dorian said. “I think you’ve had enough nights out.” He leaned in to drop a kiss to Cullen’s cheek. “If I find out this was all an excuse to get free coffee, however, than I won’t be much pleased.”

“Of course not,” Cullen chuckled, “although more kisses wouldn’t go amiss.”

“Oh,” Dorian grinned, “that I am more than capable of providing.”


	96. Chapter 96

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you want me to keep quiet, don’t make me have to tell you to go faster.”

Dorian was well aware that he had a bit of a… _thing_ …for particularly men. At the very least, it was something that Felix’s gentle ribbing had never allowed to refuse to acknowledge. It was hard to see the downside of such a preference either. Being capable of overpowering another person so completely was very attractive, after all, something to be admired instead of mocked.

And, besides, it wasn’t as though Felix had much room to tease anymore given the junior Hawke he had shacked up with; of whom there was absolutely nothing small about.

Still, muscles weren’t the only thing that could win Dorian’s attention. Particularly not when he had never been  _wooed_  (there really was no better word for it) so spectacularly as the Commander of the Inquisition insisted on doing. And it wasn’t as though being pressed up against walls to for heated kisses and considerable groping later in their courtship didn’t speak of good things to come.

Except now that Dorian had Cullen in bed at last it was… Well, alright, it wasn’t as though he could truly say that it was  _terrible_. The other man was hitting all the right spots, after all, and the kisses were sweeter than ever, but the buildup was all so maddeningly slow, each touch so gentle it might not have even been there. He wasn’t above grumbling just a touch when Cullen stopped entirely either.

“Sorry,” Cullen said, face screwed up in a wince.

“Now that isn’t something one wants to hear in the bedroom.” Dorian had enough sympathy to reach up to brush his knuckles over Cullen’s cheekbones, doing his best to ease away the grimace that had settled in. “But, really now, you don’t need to treat me like I’m made of glass. You won’t break me.”

“But I…” Cullen swallowed hard, yet he didn’t drop his head away, which was a good sign of the trust built between them at the very least. “I did once. Or, at least, she acted like I did. I  _hurt_  her, but she didn’t use her watchword, so I thought—”

“Wait a moment,” Dorian interrupted. “ _Watch word_?” It was a phrase he had heard plenty of times, whispered into his ears in countless brothels. But to hear it slipping free from Cullen’s lips was something else entirely.

And also near searingly hot.

He pressed up just enough to press a quick peck to Cullen’s lips. “Mine is red.” He sighed at the puzzled tilt to his lover’s head. “I promise to explain later,” he said, “but for now know that you can do whatever it is you want and I’ll scream that directly into your ear if it gets to be too much.”

“Good to know,” Cullen chuckled, “but I think we’ll stick to the basics for now. At least until we can discuss what your limits are.”

“Excuse you,” Dorian said. “I’ll have you know that I have very few…” The rest of his words were swallowed up in a gasp as Cullen gathered up his wrists to pin them over his head. 

“Settle down, love.” Dorian didn’t bother to try suppressing the shiver that came over him as Cullen snuck his teeth into a tender spot on his throat. “We have a long night ahead of us.”


	97. Chapter 97

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I thought you'd be gone by the time I woke up..."

Dorian had lived with the nature of what he was to have dealing with it down to a very neat system. The most glaring rule, of course, was the one that overarched everything else. That was what happened, after all, when it was the one that had been imprinted onto his mind with the most force and, in some cases, the most cruelty.

Never cling, never hope for more than the pleasure that sex brought. To even pause to consider the chance for something more was to lay down the starting steps towards your own destruction. 

It was part of why he had been so wary to invite Cullen back to his rooms. He enjoyed the nature of what he had with the man already, even if it often lead to the two of them dancing the razor’s edge with their flirtation. To ruin one of the first honest friendships he had had since arriving in the North seemed almost cruel. 

To be fair, he had certainly needed the aid of liquid courage to be able to do it.

So when he awoke the next morning, aware of each part of him that was so wonderfully sore, the last thing he expected was to find Cullen blinking in the sun pouring through the window. The smile he bestowed upon a gaping Dorian, however, was entirely without guile, beating out the sun entirely for its warmth. 

“Good morning.” His smile flattered when he took in all of Dorian’s expression, reaching out to press his fingers to the other man’s cheek. “Dorian?”

“I thought you would be gone by the time I awoke.” Dorian winced when Cullen’s face fell entirely. He had to reach out to seize the man’s bicep to keep him from moving, teeth working on his bottom lip as he tried to find the proper words. “Where I come from something like this is not…” He sighed. “You learn that to except anything more than pleasure is foolish.”

His heart seized around the prolonged silence, only for him to inhale sharply at the soft press of lips to his forehead. 

“I have no intention of allowing anyone to take me from your side, Dorian. Be it the Maker or anyone else.”

“You may regret those words.” 

Dorian let his eyes flutter shut as he was tipped over onto his back, however, gentle lips sliding over his.

“Hm…I doubt that, my love.”


	98. Chapter 98

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So I found this waterfall..."

It wasn’t as though Dorian was unused to the concept of public baths. His own country, after all, was filled to the brim with such places. In Tevinter, however, such places were made for relaxation with only brief pauses to discuss politics or play at small talk for however long it suited either party.

The Skyhold baths were very rarely a place for peace to be found. The Iron Bull always had a running commentary about  _something_  while Sera seemed determined to engage in a splash fight whenever ignored for too long. Even the “dread” Inquisitor liked to pitch handfuls of bubbles at those unsuspecting.

He had tried to insist on his own bath, no matter the material, only to be told that such a thing would be permissible only if he could find a source for the water to be drawn from. He wasn’t sure if it was meant to be a test of his determination or some sort of tease; the wry curve to Josephine’s lips had certainly seemed to suggest the latter.

Regardless, Dorian wasn’t about to let a chance for a bit of a privacy slip through his fingers. Even if, after an hour or so, he was lounging for the sanctuary of his place within the library with some warm, definitely alcoholic drink to warm his fingers back up, not to mention the rest of him.

He couldn’t place exactly where he first heard the signing, no doubt because he had thought it was the whine of the wind at first. As he drew closer to a place half cliff, half rounded hill, though, there was no mistaking the sound for what it was. 

He was too distracted through his joy at finding a river of water, at first, let alone one with steam rising up from it to mark it as a hot spring to give much thought to the identity of the signer.

Once his eyes tracked up to the start of the river, however, where there was a  _waterfall_  of all things, it was suddenly quite difficult to concentrate on anything else.

It wasn’t as though he hadn’t nursed quite a few fantasies about the Commander of the Inquisition. What was far more shameful, no doubt, was that such thoughts often veered towards the thought of such strong arms wrapped around him or whether Cullen’s kisses would be as sweet as his flirtations were.

There was very little that was sweet, let alone censored about Cullen now, though. The steam might conceal the very best bits of few, but that left more than enough to be ogled at surely with such the hair on the broad chest gone dark gold under the water, shoulders flexing as the man reached for the bar of soap. The sound Cullen made when his fingers skimmed over a raised nipple by accident, however, was positively  _obscene_.

It took quite a bit of effort for Dorian to tear himself away, let alone get his feet to start moving. But he wasn’t quick enough, apparently, if the voice that echoed up from below was any guess.

“Make sure to bring your own bath supplies next time, Lord Pavus. I’ll even help you do your back if you ask nicely.”

Dorian raced all the way back to Skyhold, red in the face as the Commander’s warm laughter echoed around him.


	99. Chapter 99

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're too young for me." with Cullrian -- young Dorian seducing the Commander Cullen...

Accepting that the Inquisitor had taken a tumble through time, let alone brought a legion of unchaperoned mages under their roof, had been difficult enough. The  _boy_  from Tevinter that she had brought back with her, barely out of puberty for all his swagger, was quite another.

Gossip ran wild, of course, but Cullen paid it little heed. No wicked future magister, dripping in evil intentions, would have pleaded for his friend to be given over to the Wardens to save his life or give aid to an establishment that held so many who thought so little of him.

He had thought it kindness that lead him to the chess table where Dorian sulked, surrounded by the whispers of Chantry sisters on all sides. He wouldn’t allow himself to consider it being any other impulse, not when Dorian’s face shone with such unguarded pleasure at simply having a proper companion again.

The boy was only just discovering himself; there was no reason for Cullen to intrude on that other than to guide him.

To that end, he convinced himself that the lingering touches or dropped compliments were little more than a childhood crush, born of admiration. He saw no reason to bat away something so harmless, especially not when there was already very little he would have done for the sake of that smile.

He was realizing now, however, that he might have managed to give Dorian the wrong idea. 

The compliments had taken a turn for barely veiled suggestions, which had Cullen’s ears burning, and he couldn’t strictly call the hand that tended to slide across his thigh or up his arm a touch anymore. 

Still, it would appear that he had failed to make it clear that such matters couldn’t stand. He certainly wouldn’t have an armful of Dorian perched in his lap were that the case, after all, let alone have the boy desperately searching out the taste of him deep in his mouth.

It took considerable effort to lift Dorian away, placing him down on the desk as he braced a hand on either side of the mage’s legs, fighting to catch his breath. By the time he raised his head, Dorian had affected a look of wide eyed innocence, which was entirely ruined by the sly curve to his lips.

“Dorian.” He shook his head, moving back until his legs knocked against his chair. “This isn’t… This isn’t what you think you can be.”

Dorian’s smile dropped as though it had been torn free, replaced by a thunderous scowl. “It isn’t  _wrong_ ,” he spat. “I know what I want and it isn’t…” He fingers curled against the polished wood of the desk below him. “It was supposed to be different in the South!”

“Oh, Dorian, no, that’s not what I meant.” Cullen brushed his knuckles across the high arch of Dorian’s cheek, heartbreaking further when the boy flinched away from the touch. “The fault is not with you wanting a  _man_ —it’s over your age.” He huffed out a laugh. “Maker, I’m near old enough to be your father. There are plenty of boys your own age that you can—”

He was cut off by Dorian’s fingers curling into the fur of his cape, tugging him back into the spread of his legs. “I don’t  _want_  those boys,” Dorian said, “or anyone else, for that matter.” He leaned up to press a kiss to the underside of Cullen’s jaw. “I trust you. I… I  _like_  you. So, Cullen, please, if you can’t just—”

He squeaked into the kiss pressed over his mouth, which was far too sweet to be borne, even if he did pout when Cullen drew back laughing.

“If we do this,” Cullen said, resting his forehead against Dorian’s own, “then it will be done at my pace. No rushing into things.”

“Fine,” Dorian huffed. He chewed on the inside of his mouth for a moment before offering up a tenative smile followed by, “ _Daddy_.” 

He laughed as Cullen collapsed back into his chair with a groan, covering his own smile with a hand pressed over his lips. 

Maker help him, but this boy was going to prove the death of him.

 

 


	100. Chapter 100

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 40\. exes meeting again after not speaking for years au
> 
> A continuation of “I was a bet?” where Dorian seduced Cullen back in high school on a dare only for the feelings to become real, except all Cullen knows is the former without the benefit of the latter.

Even if it had been somewhat of a disappointment to his father, Cullen had yet to run into anything that made him regret working off military contracts instead of signing up directly. He wasn’t about to quibble over not being the lead supervisor either, seeing as Garrett Hawke certainly had a better knack for the front of house than he did. The man’s easy flirtations, on the other hand, were a bit harder to handle, although, to Garrett’s credit, he would always stop if asked or if he sensed he had gone too far.

So, in short, Cullen enjoyed the position he had now, along with the work it brought him. He even liked the people that he got to work with, which was why when Merrill dashed into his office, clearly upset, he was already up in arms.

“Did something happen, Merrill?” he asked, trying to keep his tone as even as possible. The girl was typically capable of dealing with any subtle insults towards the points of ears or her age with a surprising level of skill for one of such a sweet deposition, but that didn’t mean she should have to tolerate them either.

“Oh, no! I mean, not to me, or rather…” Merrill took a deep breath, letting it out slowly in an effort to ease her rambling away. “It’s only that your one o’clock is…”

“With Gereon Alexius’ company,” Cullen said. Although he very much doubted that something like that could have Merrill twisting her hands in such a way as she nodded.

“Yes,” she said, “ _that_  one. It seems that the company…erm…freelanced out to—”

“Pardon me, I don’t intend to be rude, but it’s now five minutes  _after_  when the meeting was meant to begin. Should I duck around the corner for lunch soon and then come back?”

Cullen had the odd sensation of time slowing down, even Merrill’s squeak of alarm sounding distant to his ears. At least he got the benefit of knowing that the man standing in his doorway was equally as flustered about the situation, if the way he was gaping like a fish out of water was any question.

“I see patience is still something that escapes you, Dorian.” He glanced over the other man as quickly as possible before turning back to the papers on his desk. “And that mustache of yours finally came to fruition.”

“Yes. Or, well, that is to say…” Dorian sighed, the hand not clutching a satchel rising up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “I can always ask Alexius to send someone else, you know. There’s no reason for things to become awkward.”

“Clearly.” Cullen leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest as much to hide the way his hands were trembling than anything else. “But I’m not going to waste your time on something fruitless. This is a joint job, so trying to avoid working together will only lead to more issues. It’s best just to get it out of the way now.”

“Right, right,” Dorian muttered. He shot a quick look at Cullen, shifting from one foot to the other. “You know, I never got the chance to—” 

“Cullen, my man!” The whole bulk of Garrett took up the door frame behind Dorian, let alone how his presence all but spilled into the office itself the moment he spoke. “A little birdie—possibly a redheaded one, who’s to say—told me that you haven’t had lunch yet. Would you be up for turning this into a meeting out? It’d be a chance to introduce our newcomer to the team.”

Cullen was able to read between the lines to see the out that was being offered and he certainly wasn’t in any sort of position not to take it. “Sounds like a plan.” If the smile he offered was strained at least Garrett’s more than made up for it. 

“Perfect!” he said. “Now I can get you to that place I’ve been trying to convince you to try for  _weeks_. Two birds with one stone and all that.”

There was a pinched expression on Dorian’s face as he watched Garrett saunter towards the elevator, which spoke of nothing good. “So,” he remarked with forced casualness, “you and him—”

“Aren’t whatever you’re thinking,” Cullen cut in. “Look, Dorian, I don’t want to rehash the past anymore than you do. So, please, let’s keep things professional.” He wasn’t the boy who hung on Dorian’s every word now and if he convinced himself just enough he could even pretend that he wasn’t bothered by how Dorian’s face crumpled before he could catch such a slip entirely.

“Of course,” Dorian said, his smile as fake as the one Cullen had donned earlier. “Now where is this place that that ‘charming’ man wished to take you to? Or, ah, apologies,  _all_  of us to, apparently?” 

Cullen had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from sighing. This was going to be the longest month of his life without a doubt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Lord, I need to give this a proper fic/finish


	101. Chapter 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just close your eyes. Imagine I’m him/her. It couldn’t be hard. We are brothers/sisters after all.”
> 
> Dorian meets Branson Rutherford.

For all of his other remarkable qualities, wisdom in love was something that Dorian had never learned. His heart had always had a way of landing precisely where it should not, his lack of reservation making up for the rest as he toppled head over heels almost literally all at once.

But even with all that experience under his belt, he didn’t notice the warning signs starting to bloom around the Commander of the Inquisition. At least not until he realized that he found the man’s persistently awkward laugh to be lovely on the ears and spent a whole excursion in Val Royeaux trying to find a gift suited to the man’s style just so that he could see Cullen smile.

He had tried to do the wise thing for once, canceling a chess game here or there while, for once, voicing little complaint when Adaar wanted to haul them all off to some desolate landscape.

Cullen had had none of it, however, simply searching him out instead, face full of concern. It was wrong, of course, no one had to tell Dorian that, but he still gutted himself on the openness of Cullen’s smile and the care within his touches.

But, as of late, it had been Cullen canceling their arrangements, although that had far more to do with the latest guest at Skyhold.

Branson Rutherford—sent out by an elder sister to ensure Cullen was still  _breathing_ apparently—didn’t  _completely_  resemble his brother but it was a close thing. The height almost matched to be sure, even if the shoulders that Dorian had clung to were a little less broad. And, so long as he had kept his eyes shut, he could forget that the heated ones watching him were a cool blue instead of bright copper.

Gasping out another name, however, was  _completely_  unforgivable, although Branson had simply chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead before pulling away completely.

“I had a feeling.” He hooked a smile over his shoulder as he tugged his shirt back over his head. “Do try  _telling_  my brother, alright? He deserves something good in his life.”

Dorian didn’t even bother attempting to infuse his laughter with a hint of humor. “You surely can’t be speaking of me,” he said.

“None of that.” Branson leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of Dorian’s mouth. “My brother has always had a way of surprising people, you’ll see.”

Dorian hummed, not bothering to clean up before flopping back into bed, barely aware of the blanket being tucked in around him.

Hope, he knew, never lead to anything good and no amount of kind words could change that.


	102. Chapter 102

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cullrian with omega!cullen smut?: “Wow you smell really good today; new perfume/cologne?"

When Dorian had offered up the free space in his newly acquired apartment, Cullen had barely twice about accepting. It wasn’t that housing on campus was all that terrible…except that when it  _was_  nasty it tended to be so in the biggest way possible. So, truth be told, the thought of being able to share a more private space with no one other than one of his closest friends was a welcome thought.

He didn’t consider any awkward situations that could develop until he woke up with a start one morning, sheets sticking to his body and already half-hard in his sleep pants.

It took a few deep breaths eased in and out to remember that there was no reason why this should make either of them uncomfortable. 

Dorian had been complaining about his work levels lately enough to ensure that he was probably already holed away in the library. He would probably search out some of their friends for celebratory drinks once all was finished too, which left Cullen with more than enough time to work out what his body was forcing him through. After all this was over the two of them could create a better system for this sort of thing.

Before he could do much of anything, though, he would need to bunk down properly, which was what lead him shuffling towards the kitchen. Which all would have been a lot easier if there weren’t someone  _already there_.

“Morning,” Dorian muttered around his mug of coffee.

“Dorian.” Cullen hated how his voice squeaked around the name. “What are you doing here? I mean, don’t you have…stuff?”

“I finished early,” Dorian said. “Thought I told you? Ah, I suppose you’re not here to lecture me on my poor sleep habits again then.” He frowned when Cullen didn’t do anymore than shake his head, easing forward. “Is something up with you? You usually never miss the chance to play mother hen and your face is all…” He trailed off when Cullen shuddered again the hand pressed to his forehead. “Cullen, what the hell is—”

“Come on,” Cullen snapped, “it’s got to be obvious.”

“Well clearly it’s  _not_.” Dorian frowned, sniffing at the air. “Did you cave to using cologne at last?”

Cullen eased out a shaky laugh. “No,” he muttered, “that’s not it.”

“But you smell so damn…” Dorian almost dropped his coffee then, eyes flying wide. “Oh, holy  _shit_ , you’re in heat, aren’t you?” He set his mug down on the counter so that he could slip his hands up to cradle Cullen’s face. “Look, you…you trust me, don’t you?”

“Are you really…” The rest of Cullen’s words were swallowed up by a groan as Dorian pressed his lips to the patch of skin just behind his ear. “Are you sure you’re not going to—” He gasped at the leg already sliding between his legs, able to feel himself being caught against the wall and entirely beyond caring. “Just don’t regret this, alright?”

Dorian’s voice was low as he dropped a hand to Cullen’s hip, guiding the other boy to rub off along his thigh. “That is the farthest thing from my mind, I assure you,  _amatus_.” The kisses he dropped to Cullen’s mouth were surprisingly sweet against the burn that was rolling up to full force beneath the omega’s skin. “Although I can’t guarantee you’ll still be able to look at this wall the same way.” 

“Who said anything about a wall?” Cullen dragged his teeth against Dorian’s bottom lip in the next kiss. “The couch is a much better place to try riding your cock, don’t you think?” 

The laughter that escaped when Dorian buried his face in his neck with a groan was interrupted with a gasp as his first orgasm of the day hit him, but Cullen was still going to count it as a victory.


	103. Chapter 103

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a kiss because I have literally been watching you all night and I can’t take anymore

Despite all the frippery it would mean wading through, Dorian accepted the Inquisitor’s invitation to be part of those to attend the masquerade at the Winter Palace with no small measure of excitement. As proud as he was of the work he had achieved within the Inquisition or the unexpected happiness those within the walls of Skyhold managed to bring him, he had still been raised in the height of courtly intrigue. To play that dance again, even if in a foreign court, was about as close to the familiarity of his home as he could be allowed to get currently.

What was far  _less_  enjoyable, however, was all the attention that their Commander was receiving. Or, perhaps, given certain events, that title should be amended to simply  _his_  Commander, if only within the privacy of his own mind.

It wasn’t that Dorian could entirely blame members of the Orlesian nobility for taking note of Cullen. The man was handsome in a way that rarely reached the upper reaches of society where there was such an emphasis on soft tones and smooth textures. Still, that didn’t excuse being so tactless in their pursuit, insulting Cullen even while complimenting him by assuming he wasn’t worthy of a more subtle chase.

“Are you married, Commander?”

“Not yet.” It was probably just as well no one of note was nearby to hear how sharp Dorian’s intake of breath was. “But I am…already taken.”

“Still single then?”

Oh, that was simply  _it_.

Dorian would admit that he put his wine glass down on the railing with a bit more force than necessary, but he didn’t see the harm in making the flocks of Cullen’s admirers jump a little. As it was the face of the man in question lit up entirely at the sight of him, although Dorian only got to savor that for a few moments before hauling Cullen in by his jacket for a kiss.

It might not have been necessary for him to slip his tongue in as well, running the tip of it along the back of Cullen’s teeth, but it was well worth it for how dazed the other man looked when Dorian pulled away.

“I believe you still owe me a dance, Cullen,” he said.

Cullen managed a single, long blink before a slow smile spread across his lips. “Oh, yes,” he said, “because I’m clearly in a fit state to concentrate on where my feet should be going  _now_.”

“Don’t worry.” Dorian could hardly resist leaning in to peck Cullen on the corner of the mouth, not when gathered another rise of gasps from their onlookers and a warm smile just for him from Cullen. “I’ll be there to guide you.”

 

 


	104. Chapter 104

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But at the end of the day I'm still the bad guy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for Halward Pavus' A+ Parenting

Mealtimes in the Rutherford family had always been a hubbub of commotion. Everyone wanted to unload the stories of their days all at once with their mother smacking the hands of those that tried to grab more than their fair share. Even in later years, whether in the Templar barracks or at the main hall of Skyhold, there were too many people to all for a true stillness, all the voices bubbling upwards into a warm mingling thrum.

So, no, Cullen had never had a meal quite like the one served by the Pavus family.

Dorian had been putting off the invite for as long as possible. Strictly speaking, he should have gone to his childhood home first, in order to pay respects to the man that remained the head of his house. But he had cited one clever excuse after another until his father’s letters began to contain more thinly veiled threats than warm platitudes.

The invitation had been extended to Cullen as Dorian’s “friend” since the latter had made it clear he wouldn’t attend otherwise, but that didn’t mean there was any effort to include him in conversation. Not that there was much to be had between smatterings of small talk between the meals. 

It was far easier to keep his attention on resting his hand on Dorian’s thigh under the table, willing his lover to make it through the night unscathed. Which was it proved, became alarmingly difficult when the dessert was served as that was apparently the very moment that Halward was waiting to burst into a discussion on politics.

Cullen glanced towards Aquinea more than once, but, although there was a small frown decorating her full, painted lips, she seemed to have abided too be driven to speak up. A “coping mechanism” of having to spend such time around his father, Dorian had called it, and one that she had clearly passed on to her son.

“I simply don’t see why you continue on such a tirade,” Halward said. “No one in the Magisterium wishes to listen to a child having a tantrum. Even more so when all can easily discern the truth behind your excuses of ‘reform’.”

Cullen could feel the muscles in Dorian’s leg go tense beneath his hand all at once. “Yes, Father,” he snapped, “I would dearly love to walk down the street hand in hand with my lover without fear of him being  _stoned_ , but there is far more to it than that. Such as ceasing to involve blood magic in the art of politic—something you are well familiar with.”

“Of course.” Halward slumped back in his chair with a sigh. “No discussion can end without me being rendered the monster.”

Dorian made a sound that sounded horribly akin to as if he were choking. “That’s not what I—”

“Is that not what parents who refuse to accept their children are called?” Cullen cut in. “Who play at games to force them to work towards the benefit of their parents’ over their own? Unless, of course, I missed a bit of the puzzle as us ‘dog lords’ are so prone to do.” He rose to his feet, the scraping of his chair overly loud in a room gone dead quiet. He accomplished the flawless bow that Josephine and Leliana had drilled into his head, one arm braced behind his back. “If you would excuse us, Lord and Lady Pavus, it appears it would be best for us to cut out early.”

“You dare to—”

“Halward!” Aquinea had braced a hand over her husband’s, yet her eyes were settled on Cullen, gleaming with something that seemed strangely like approval. “There is no point in working yourself towards such heights of passion so late in the night.” She rose to press a kiss to each of her son’s cheeks and did the same to a mystified Cullen. “I shall call on you both later in the week. Now be gone with you.”

The awkwardness didn’t settle in until within the carriage when Cullen had to fumble for Dorian’s hand in the near dark. “I didn’t mean to presume,” he said. “I just couldn’t sit there and listen to him—”

“Shut  _up_.” Dorian half crawled into Cullen’s lap to slam his mouth over the other man’s own. “Don’t you dare apologize for being on my side. You have no long I… You  _foolish_  man of mine.”

“Yes.” Cullen sought out Dorian’s mouth again, pretending not to notice the fat tears dropping onto his own face from such close contact. “ _Always_.”


	105. Chapter 105

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What did I tell you about coming here? You're too young." For cullrian. How about school boy Cullen and greaser Dorian?

First glance, Dorian was convinced that it had to be a trick of the lights. The Magisterium wasn’t a place that you could simply walk into from off the street, after all. and certainly no one should  _want_  to do that given the clientele of the establishment. 

Unless, apparently, you were Cullen Rutherford, who, even wrapped up in the leather jacket he had stolen from Dorian’s closest, shone out as prey in his heavy rimmed glasses and loose curls glowing golden even in the dim light of the club.

Dorian came to near to upsetting the table in his haste to get up, snagging Cullen by the arm to drag him away from the others already creeping close. There were always going to be ears in a place such as this, but at least they could get the eyes off them by sliding into the shadows.

“What are you—”

“Is  _that_  what you come here for?” Cullen had interrupted to nod at the stage, except his eyes had settled on the boy smoothing his hands down his bare chest instead of any of the scantily clad girls.

Dorian swallowed hard. “It’s one of them, yes,” he said. “The rest has to do with business, which is all the more reason why I told you to  _keep away_.”

Cullen still hadn’t bothered to glance in Dorian’s direction, the tip of his tongue tracing the outline of his upper lip. “I could do that, you know,” he murmured. “You don’t have to—”

It was Dorian’s turn to cut in this time, squeezing down hard on Cullen’s arm. “You’re already taking enough of a risk. I’m not gonna ask you for more, baby.” He leaned in as if to whisper into Cullen’s ear, dropping a kiss to the skin behind the boy’s ear at the last second. “I’ll swing by in the car later, if you’re willing to sneak out.”

There didn’t seem to be much need to wait for an answer with how Cullen shivered in his grasp. He wasn’t expecting the lips which brushed along his jawline, though. “Coming by to corrupt me further, Daddy-O?” he asked. “Pretty sure they got back rooms for that, you know.”

“I have  _business_ ,” Dorian warned. That didn’t stop him from sending out five minutes later with a dopey smile, though, neck covered in love bites that even the high collar of his shirt would have to strain to hide.

Sometimes it was difficult to figure out who exactly was meant to be playing who, but damn if Dorian cared.

 

 


	106. Chapter 106

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hipbone Kiss

Awakening in the morning was a process that Dorian found to be unpleasant at the best of times. It was even less of a delight, however, when it took him almost half a minute to figure out why he was in a bed that was  _not_  his own. He certainly wouldn’t have agreed to being lodged in a room with a giant hole in its ceiling, after all.

It didn’t seem to daunt a man such as Cullen, though, who was, if memory served right, the one who had convinced Dorian that spending the night was a good idea. The very same man who has currently hidden away under the covers, hands skating up Dorian’s thighs. 

 _Ah_.

Dorian hadn’t expected that whatever was developing with Cullen to shape up into this sort of arrangement, but it wasn’t as though he wasn’t well versed in it. It would have been wiser of him to have expected this outcome or at least that was what he used to squash the disappointment that was threatening to rise up in his chest.

So he thought it was only understandable that he felt more than a bit disorientated when Cullen’s mouth lingered near his cock for barely more than the space of a breath before pressing down onto his hip.

“What are you…” Dorian reached down to yank the heavy quilt aside, doing his best to resist the adorable image Cullen made come morning, all frizzy curls and soft, too sweet eyes. “Can I help you?”

“’ppose you might.” Cullen dropped his head a touch lower, landing a kiss on Dorian’s thigh this time. “Unless you have too much of an aversion to morning breath to be kissed proper.” 

Dorian let his head drop back against the pillow, pressing the heels of his hands to closed eyes as he spat out a quick curse in his mother tongue. When he opened his eyes Cullen was staring up at him with a touch of bewilderment yet still appeared as innocent as ever.

“If I leave this bed without a  _single_  kiss to my actual lips,” he said, at last, “I will have to kick you out of your own bed.”

“Well then—” Cullen was diplomatic enough not to draw attention how Dorian’s breath hitched as he leaned up to capture his mouth. “—that would be a shame, wouldn’t it?”

Yes, Dorian decided as he dug his fingers into Cullen’s shoulders to keep him in place, that would be  _devastating._


	107. Chapter 107

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you don't want me to think you're into this, try not to moan so loudly when I pull your hair."

The number of times that Cullen had had to remind himself that this was all for a job had begun to grow ridiculous. It helped somewhat that the payout had been massive so far since Aquinea Thalrassian  _née_  Pavus was determined not to let her boy’s father anywhere near him.

Divorces were messy enough, after all, without the addition of each parents’ gang connections. And, perhaps, the fact that, for all his college years, Dorian Pavus was an utter  _brat_. 

“You do realize why your security detail is here, don’t you?” Cullen had to seize tight to his frustration instead of focusing on Dorian’s painted on pants or the glitter that his bare chest was going to smear all over the car seat. “Because it’s rather difficult for us to do our jobs when you’re always running away to places like  _this_.”

“Maybe you should provide better entertainment then.” Dorian looked up at him through long lashes, lips already curled towards a smirk. “I can think of more than a few things that would keep me sufficiently distracted.”

“Or maybe,” Cullen grumbled, “I keep my job instead and… Dorian!” 

The rest of his words were lost around a groan that eked out despite his grit teeth as Dorian’s hand tangled in his hair, using it as leverage to pull his head back to get at his neck.

“What was that?” As if Cullen would have been able to answer with the way Dorian’s teeth were working marks into his throat, one after the other. "If you don’t want me to think you’re into this, try not to moan so loudly when I pull your hair.“

The grumble that rumbled from somewhere in Cullen’s chest was about all the warning Dorian got before he was being yanked forward to be spread over Cullen’s lap on his stomach. Any protests he might uttered were stolen the instant the older man’s hand came down hard on his ass.

“I’ll tell the driver to take the long way back.” Cullen pinched at the curve of his ass until Dorian squirmed. “You’ve worked up to an impressive number of strikes.” He gripped down on Dorian’s thigh when the boy began to jerk forwards against his leg. “If you come before I tell you to, this will never happen again.” 

He chuckled at Dorian’s groan, frustration mingling with desire. “Yes,  _sir_.”

“Good boy.” Cullen’s smile turned almost soft at how lax Dorian went at such a simple statement. “Now remember to sound off.”


	108. Chapter 108

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh look at you being all flustered. I’m sorry, but you’re not allowed to cum for another week… at least.”

In the aftermath of their relationship becoming a public matter, Dorian had been somewhat impressed with how many warnings he received to treat Cullen with care. It was somewhat comforting to have such a steady reaffirmation that, despite Cullen’s own attempts to drag himself through the mud, there were still plenty of people who held him in high regard.

Of course, it was also beyond amusing to realize how many people thought Cullen would need guarding against  _Dorian’s_  rougher touch.

“You always look so beautiful like this.” Cullen’s tongue flicked against the head of Dorian’s shaft as his hand worked across the rest. “Although even that won’t be enough to convince me to let you cum before your time is up.”

Dorian whined, fingers knotted into the sheets below. He wondered if the sound could be carried up through the hole in Cullen’s roof, letting the guards patrolling outside know just what was happening up above. He was aware that the thought shouldn’t attract him so thoroughly, but he was also quite beyond caring. 

“ _Kaffas,_ you wouldn’t have even known about it if Varric weren’t such a—” 

The rest of his words were stolen away by a harsh gasp, however, after Cullen’s hand came down hard against his thigh. “Exactly,” he said. “You would have tried to get away with it after I had  _ordered_  you not to try getting off while out there.” He dragged his thumb across the underside of Dorian’s cock. “I think it will take a week or so to teach you what a bad idea that was, don’t you?”

For all that it sounded like a rhetorical question, Dorian knew that this was the opening Cullen was providing for him to utter his watchword if he needed it, to have a chance to negotiate terms. Instead he simply nodded. “Whatever you think is best.”

“Now you’re getting it.” Cullen pressed a kiss to Dorian’s thigh to ease the harsh cry that was wrung out as he twisted his fist just right. “And there will be a reward for that.”


	109. Chapter 109

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Don't you look good on your knees with all that cum on your face." Dorian saying it to Cullen.

Dorian had long since shed himself of the small voice that feared such a new twist to his desires could be shameful. People, all the more commonly the higher you went up in class, engaged in far more dangerous things than he favored. At least the practices he gravitated towards had a clear out provided for each participant—or at least there was  _supposed_ to be.

It was a fleeting thing to find another boy from among the elite to so readily hand control of their pleasure over to another. Such arrangements had been easier to create within the brothels, yet there he could never be certain that he wasn’t hearing a watchword when he should from either the workers fearing his displeasure or thinking that it would earn them greater favor to keep quiet.

He had worried about the latter quite a bit with Cullen, given how lost the other man could become in the knowledge that he had been properly good (as if he wasn’t  _always_ ). Still, he obeyed whenever Dorian dropped the word, voicing little objection to the sometimes necessary checkins on his condition.

Cullen never did cease to surprise him, however, even if it was such a thing as now when he realized that his lover had actually woke up early just to provide Dorian with enough time to fuck his way into his mouth before morning drills with the troops.

“Aren’t you a lovely sight?” Dorian tipped Cullen’s face upwards with his thumb, taking in the full affect of that dazed yet still impossibly loving smile. “I would have you greet your troops like this—let them all know exactly who you belong to—but this part of you is just for me, isn’t it?” He leaned forwards as Cullen nodded, able to hear the gasp the other man emitted when his head was pushed back unexpectedly. “I can think of another way to send the message, though.”

Cassandra made more than one perturbed noise that day, for all her blushing, whenever Cullen stretched his sore neck a little too far, highlight the impressive ring of love bites that surrounded his neck. That didn’t stop the Commander from touching them with near reverence, however, or wandering whether they might be replaced with something more permanent one day.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nsfw inspiration: http://redxluna.tumblr.com/post/135998867715


	110. Chapter 110

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m sorry, but who are you? Where am I? The last thing I remember was my ship crashing and– oh my carriage, I meant my carriage crashed. Of course.”
> 
> Time Travel AU

To say that Cullen was at a loss of what to make of the newcomer to their hold. It wasn’t everyday, after all, that you caught a man in clothes that could only function as undergarments given how much skin was put on display. No one in their right mind would run around the crests of the Frostback Mountains in apparel more suited to bleed out warmth than keep it. Then again, based on much of what the man had been babbling, Dorian seemed far more addled than most.

“I still vote for pitching him off the battlements.” Carver spread out his hands when even Leliana sighed. “What? I was  _mostly_  joking that time.”

“Of course.” Josephine looked far from convinced, however, directing the next matter of business to Cullen instead. “It is inconvenient to say the least for this to happen while Their Excellence is away. Yet as you are the second in command you could always—”

“I’ll take care of it,” Cullen cut over her words gently. “I even promise not to throw him off anything.”

“Oh, fine,” Carver said, eyes already rolling, “take the less interesting…  _Ouch_!”

Cullen ducked around the corner, doing his best to hide the laughter already bubbling in his throat at the sight of Leliana actually grabbing Carver’s ear to silence him.

Truth be told, he found being saddled with such a job to be far from a hardship. Everything related to the man was presented as a mystery, after all, and he had never shied away from trying to piece together parts to a puzzle. Especially given that if he were to focus on that, he could forget, at least in part, how starkly the man’s beauty had stood out against the blankness of the landscape.

The servants dipped low when he entered the room set up in a haste for their guest, although Dorian didn’t rise from the chair he was perched in. Although, given that he had all but cocooned himself in blankets, Cullen could see how getting to his feet might prove to be a hardship.

It took a bit longer than usual for the servants to filter out, each hoping to catch a bit of gossip about the first subject of great interest that Skyhold had seen in months. Cullen didn’t doubt that he disappointing them all greatly by giving them nothing more interesting than the sight of him feeding the fire that Dorian had curled his body towards.

“So,” Cullen began as he settled into the chair across from Dorian, “I hear you’re a lord.”

Dorian’s laughter was strangely choked. “Yes,” he said, “I suppose that would be the right term for it here.” He flicked his eyes over Cullen, smile curling in such a way that Cullen had to hope that the heat in his face could be excused by the closeness of the fire. “Well, if I am to be dragged off for interrogation at least they got the  _cute_  one to do it.”

“I’m not… That is to say…” Cullen dragged a hand over his face, frowning when he heard the little burst of laughter that Dorian couldn’t quite contain. At least it sounded more natural than before, although it seemed unfair for it to be as beautiful as the rest of the man. “You’re not being hauled off anywhere. The Inquisition is always looking for new members, after all. It would simply be of convenience to make certain that there isn’t some great magister about to rain down vengeance upon us for kidnapping his son. We already have enough trouble with the one running about already.”

“The Inquisition,” Dorian echoed, shaking his head. “To think all I had to worry about before was getting away from home. Well, that, and the plane crashing… I mean, carriage. My  _carriage_  crashing. Of course.”

“Right.” Cullen leaned forward, settling his hand on Dorian’s knee. He could feel the man’s muscles tense all at once under the touch, yet a hand slipped out from underneath the blankets, settling over his own before he could pull away. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

The story was still no more clear when Cullen left Dorian’s chambers some time later, but now he had arranged a time for a sparring session to test Dorian’s skills  _and_  a chess match, which was… Well, that was definitely something.


	111. Chapter 111

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ❛you’re late. why are you coming home at 3 am? it’s someone else, isn’t it?❜

There were a fair number of things that Dorian found abhorrent. Most of what was on that mental list were fairly typical, from glowering at the people who insisted on bending down huge sections of the page to mark their place in a book to the fact that no one in the South seemed to have heard of spices. The others, though, were ones he tended to bury down as far as could be managed until he was forced to drag them up for examination. Each of those had to do with what he had been taught when he had still been able to call Tevinter his true home; all of them things he would have given anything not to hold onto.

So when Cullen had spent a whole week coming home late, he had done all he could to come up with a reasonable excuse. It would be hypocritical to judge Cullen for being more social when he had been the one to push the other man towards it, even if it did sting that he hadn’t been invited along. The calls he kept stepping out to take were probably the friends he was making plans with.

It was difficult to think that Cullen, who still asked permission to  _kiss_  him on occasion, could be capable of any duplicity. But that didn’t make sleep come any easier come the start of the next week when Dorian was left to wait, folded up in Cullen’s favorite armchair, until the man in question snuck back in later than ever before.

“It’s three in the fucking morning, you know.” Dorian’s lips pressed into a thin line as Cullen started, pressing a hand against his chest through the jacket. It was the latter motion that had been scowling, rising to his feet to cross his arms over his chest. “What exactly are you hiding in there? If it’s love notes or…or love  _bites_  I’d rather know now thank you very much.”

“What?” Cullen’s eyes were wide, filled with panic in the dull glow of the living room lamp. “No, Dorian, I swear it’s not what—“

Dorian would have interrupted to show just how little he wanted to hear such clichéd excuses had someone not beat him to the punch. Or some _thing_  as it was since, despite the common slur, he didn’t think that his boyfriend was actually capable of barking. Which was at least part of why his eyebrows were already somewhere up around his hairline when Cullen sheepishly unzipped his jacket to reveal a mabari pup who was clearly the happiest person in the room at the moment.

“He’s the most well behaved one out of all the pups Hawke had,” Cullen said. “He can look after you when I’m away and when I’m here he can… That is he can help with…”

“Your PTSD.” Dorian let his forehead drop onto Cullen’s shoulder, grimacing against the little licks he received from the excited pup. “I am a horrible boyfriend, apologies.”

“Never.” Cullen dropped a kiss to the top of Dorian’s head. “It never hurts to be reminded who I belong to, promise.” He cradled the pup in the palm of one hand so that he could tip Dorian’s face up. “Who knows, maybe this is just a sign that you should pick  _me_  up a collar while I get him one.” His laughter mingled with the pups barks as Dorian threw his arms around Cullen to kiss him.

He knew Cullen would deny it the instant he spoke it, but, honestly, his boyfriend was completely too good for him.


	112. Chapter 112

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ❝ tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. ❞

Dorian hadn’t joined the Inquisition in the hopes of unearthing some hidden love. Truth be told, it hadn’t been something he had even been expecting in his initial flight from home. To say that he had had his fill on love, or that which masqueraded as it, would have been an understatement to say the least. No matter how he might gripe, the work he did with his fellow Inquisition members at least gave him a distraction to keep him from prodding at that dull ache while having the benefit of being able to see the good that came out of such efforts.

Of course, he had forgotten how traitorous his heart could manage to be; no matter how abused it might be. It was one thing to admire Cullen’s unexpected grace at chess, for insistence, or to feel gratitude at discovering it was the Commander he had to thank for curtailing the sneering jibes of some of the guardsmen. To slip out of bed early simply for the pleasure of watching the other man run through drills shirtless, however, or spend weeks combing through books for just the right combinations of headache relief was quite another thing altogether.

And, worst yet, Cullen had noticed. Something that might have been dealt with if the other man weren’t such an outright  _fool_.

“It’s perfectly rational!” Dorian said. “There’s no reason to bring feelings into the matter with the precipice we’re being made to hang off of.”

“One could argue that that’s precisely why there  _should_  be feelings involved.” Cullen was still braced against his desk, arms folded over his chest. “To make the most of whatever happiness life might offer throughout whatever time left to us.”

“Think of your reputation then!” Dorian frowned when Cullen snorted at that. “Don’t start with me on that—you have a greater one than you realize. And what about marriage or…or children…or…” He outright scowled at the realization that Cullen’s shoulders were shaking with silent laughter, whacking him hard in the chest, even if all it gained him were sore knuckles. “I am being serious here! Neither of us can risk something like this. What if one of us dies, leaving the other to…” He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, willing away the memory of fire and the sound of Rilienus’ screams. “It could ruin you.” He started at the arms that wrapped around him, although not the hand that wound its way through his hair.

“I will return to you,” Cullen said. “Maker help those that stand in my way.”

“I haven’t even given you an answer yet,” Dorian retorted.

Cullen’s chuckle was a strange sound, half saddened as it was, yet the touch that rose Dorian’s head was gentle and even more so the kisses that stole away his tears. “Yes, actually, I think you might have.”


	113. Chapter 113

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I like it when you get jealous/possessive/protective~” with omega!cullen being possessive of amused-alpha!dorian.
> 
> arranged marriage au between Archon Dorian Pavus and (reluctantly made so via the newly minted King of Ferelden) Lord Cullen Rutherford. aka I am weak for aus, forgive me.

Much as he might abhor the stereotypes, Dorian could admit that he was guilty of perpetuating certain aspects. He was merely fortunate to have a spouse who never bickered at being edged away from the more devious members of their court. It was more than likely that all the teasing flattery dropped about Cullen was little more than amusing banter, but Dorian had been too well taught in his country’s particular brand of treachery not to take steps to ensure it remained so.

He hadn’t risen to the role of Archon by only expecting the best from people, after all.

Still, it wouldn’t do to simply not mingle with those he was expected to be safeguarding. Even more so when his title ensured entrance into the fêtes that others only heard whispered about. No one would question him arriving without his husband either since the man had already made it clear how he disliked such large gatherings.

Be that as it was, Dorian hadn’t expected the cold shoulder he had received after announcing his plans for the night. Even his promise to attempt to be home at an hour  _somewhere_  close to reasonable was met with an absent nod, as though Cullen didn’t expect any such word to be kept.

It was far easier than Dorian had intended, therefore, to slip into the warm, daring conversations that had occurred back when there was still an open position at his side to vie for. There would no doubt he no shortage of rumors the following day over what such flirtations meant for his marriage, but he was too warmed by the wine to spare much thought as to that.

No amount of wine, however, could brace him for the hand that caught his arm at the elbow before he could manage to let his fingers grace the curve of a particularly fine pair of cheekbones. 

“Excuse me.” There was more edge to Cullen’s smile than Dorian had ever seen, as though he was reveling in the gasps that greeted his arrival. “Apparently it falls on me to remind my husband that he still owes me a dance.”

Dorian was a good bit to stunned to come up with a clever retort in the moment, so he settled for pressing down on Cullen’s fought after being all but dragged onto the dance floor. “What are you—”

“I know what the laws say,” Cullen bit out. “I am supposed to turn a blind eye to your…escapades…while indulging in none myself.” His snort was too bitter to be anything close to a laugh. “The purity of your damn bloodlines. But I warn you now, I won’t have it. Either you love me or not at all. That’s how a marriage—how a  _bond_ —is meant to be. At least do me the respect of that.”

“Why, ser, it almost sounds as though you’re in love.” Dorian had meant for it to be a tease, ye this throat stuck tight when Cullen’s head dropped. “You never…”

“I would like to be.” Cullen lifted his head enough to press their foreheads together, squeezing at the hand already within his grasp. “I already… If you prefer others to me then I shouldn’t—”

“Oh, you foolish, delightful man,” Dorian replied. “Whatever made you think  _any_  of them could hold so much as a candle to you? Clearly I have quite a bit of work to do.”

“Clearly.”

It would all be worth it, though, for Cullen to keep looking at him as though he had just managed to hang the damn stars in the sky.

 

 


	114. Chapter 114

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cullrian with werewolf!cullen who follows dorian everywhere. dorian doesn't realize its Cullen for the longest time.
> 
> Slightly Penny Dreadful inspired

Dorian appeared in remarkable shape for one who had spent the night doing battle with spiritual powers yet perhaps that was to be expected. It had long since reached the point where such efforts could be considered part of his daily workload. Still, the opaque gaze he cast across Cullen when he crossed the threshold of the room was something of a novelty.

It had been quite some time now since Cullen had been unable to read even the slightest of shifts across Dorian’s face.

“It was you all along,” Dorian spoke at last. He was still abed, legs folded up tight against a bare chest that Cullen fought not be too distracted by. “The Hound of God.”

Cullen did his best not to flinch, but the tic worked its way over his face all the same. “I think werewolf is the more popular term.” He settled in the chair that had remained a near permanent fixture even if allowing Dorian to actually curl around him had long since become a better reprise from nightmares. “I’m sorry for not telling you, only—”

“How long?” 

Cullen managed a few blinks, brow furrowing. “Give pardon?” he managed.

“Only I have a curious memory.” Dorian released his legs, staring at each as it unfolded although that certainly wouldn’t be enough not to notice how Cullen stiffened nearby. “Back from one of my father’s many attempts to force what was ‘unnatural’ out. I remember being pulled out from the winter waters of the lake near our house. The staff all insisted it was a hallucination, but I could have sworn it was a  _wolf_  that dragged me to safety.”

“I…” Cullen dropped his head, scrubbing his hand across his face. “What do you want me to say, Dorian?”

“Tell me why you did it,” Dorian murmured. 

“Because you were only a boy,” Cullen replied, helplessly. “And… And because you smelt of home even then, damn it.”

He certainly hadn’t been expecting to be rewarded for such a confession with Dorian curled into his lap, but he was too worn to do much more than cling onto the warm body. 

“Let me save you this time then,” Dorian whispered, lips moving against Cullen’s forehead. “I won’t let you play the martyr, Cullen. Not this time.” 


	115. Chapter 115

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regency AU

Cullen had thought many things of Lord Dorian Pavus since the man had come to inspect the troops under Ambassador Montilyet‘s permission. His initial impression was that the man spoke too much, no matter how fine his voice. It was the allure of that voice that almost driven him past common sense before he received forewarning of the man’s…exploits.

He was not one who would fault another man for pursuing what was forbidden behind closed doors, but he had little interest in being used solely for pleasure. He had already become all too familiar with the sensation of throwing your heart away only for it to find no safe place to land.

So, be that as it was, it was a considerable shock to discover Dorian bursting into his home that night barely before one of the servant had time to announce him.

“Pavus, what are you—”

“Apologies for the rudeness,” Dorian cut across, “but it seemed the best course of action. Since you are so determined to avoid the very sight of me nowadays.”

Cullen pushed up from his chair by the fire, nodding to the dismiss the poor servant who darted all too gladly from the room. “I am surprised to find my presence wanting.” He fought to keep the bitterness from his tone, yet he must not have done as good a job as he hoped from the lift of Dorian’s eyebrows. “It would seem that the Iron Bull is more than capable of providing suitable entertainment.”

“Is that what this is about?” Dorian demanded, entering the room in a few quick strides. “You were  _jealous_  of a few kisses and—”

“And of him in your bed for  _weeks_ , yes!” Cullen snapped. “Take your amusement of it now then leave me in peace. A week or so of solitude on my part and neither of us will have cause to deal with such troublesome matters again.”

“’Troublesome’?” Dorian said. “Is that what you believe such a thing to be?”

The sound that escaped Cullen’s throat was too torn a sound to be a laugh in truth, no matter how it tried for it. “To love without chance of it being returned? I have quite a few less attractive words at hand for it, believe me.”

“And if it were returned?” Dorian asked. “What words would you have then?”

“I…” Cullen’s head scrambled to latch onto a coherent thought, unable to piece together the infliction behind what he had just heard. “Do not treat this as a game, Dorian… _please_.” 

“I never did play at one with you,” Dorian murmured. “This whole time… I thought you knew.”

“If I had,” Cullen said, “then I would have kissed you at first meeting.”

“What’s stopping you now then?” Dorian replied. “If I need to do all the work here I may simply—”

“Should have known the most effective way to silence you would be like this.” Cullen nipped at the bottom of Dorian’s lip as the kiss broke, although the other man held tight to keep him from pulling away.

“More kisses, less talking,” Dorian declared. “I’ve been too long without your mouth.”

“As my lordship commands.”


	116. Chapter 116

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm sorry if I freaked you out, I didn't like how that alpha was looking at you, it creeped me out..."

It wasn’t that Dorian didn’t trust in the tastes of the combined force that was Leliana and Josephine. It was rare enough, after all, to discover people with which he could argue the finer points of global politics in the same breath as just how gauche certain fashion trends had become. 

But, be that as it may, no one could deny that the two had a rather interesting taste in companions. One only had to look at himself to make that case, after all. So, truth be told, it was as much a comfort as a mark to be comfortable that who he had been arranged to go out with could count himself as such a close friend to both girls.

Their meeting place was a familiar one, at the very least. He certainly didn’t remember the place being quite so loud, however. The pub had never advertised as the sports bar that the others in the area did; placed in an area that attracted a more mature clientele besides. 

It would seem that a cluster of local college students—freshly legal, if that, by the looks of them—hadn’t gotten the memo, however. To make matters worse, each reeked of alcohol as strongly as their alpha pheromones. The combination could prove to be a dangerous one when it came to younger alphas. 

A point proven, apparently, how a small group of them seemed to have pressed a man up against the bar, refusing to allow him to leave with his drink. It wasn’t a sight that Dorian could ignore right from the start, but it drew up short once he got close enough to catch a whiff of the other man’s scent.  

Oh, shit, he was an  _omega_.

“Hands  _off_. I don’t want to start anything tonight, but that doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you if you get to close.” Copper eyes flashed at the laughter that bubbled up around him, shoving one of the boys back with a hard fist to the chest.

The barred teeth from a curled lip was about all Dorian needed to shove himself between the two. “Alright, that’s quite enough,” he announced. “As delightful as it would be to watch you get yours, so to speak, no one’s night needs to be spoiled by pesky police calls. So, if you would excuse us.” 

He could hear the other man protesting the whole time at having his wrist grabbed, although Dorian made sure he didn’t actually succeed in freeing himself until safely outside.

“I didn’t need your help!” the man snapped, rubbing at his wrist.

“Oh, undoubtedly,” Dorian admitted with ease, “but you shouldn’t have been exposed to such disgusting behavior in the first place.” He glanced back at the pub, wincing slightly. “In any case, I have a date to cancel, so unless you’re up for filing a report—”

“Wait a moment.” The man leaned in close, lips hitching upwards slightly. It was a struggle for Dorian not to react to having such a lovely face up close as much as being able to gather up deep inhales of that certain scent with ease. “Are you Dorian then?”

“How do you know…” Dorian groaned, frowning when the man at his side merely laughed. “You can’t tell me that you’re…”

“Cullen Rutherford.” The man had a full, wide smile on his face now as he extended his hand. “Charmed.”

Dorian slid his hand into Cullen’s own, trying very hard not to think of how he certainly didn’t want to let go. “The feeling is mutual, trust me.” He squeezed at the hand in his grasp, inhaling sharply when Cullen threaded their fingers instead of letting go. “Would you trust me if I said I knew of a perfect alternative restaurant?”

“You’ve already saved the night once already,” Cullen chuckled. “I’ll have to find some way to pay you back.”

“Oh, I’m sure we can come up with  _some_  way between the two of us.” It was Dorian’s turn to laugh then as Cullen tripped over his feet, blushing furiously.

He was going to owe Leliana and Josephine quite a large present indeed.


	117. Chapter 117

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I really like a man who’s good with his hands.” I read this and instantly imagined hot mechanic Cullen fixing Dorian's expensive car, getting grease everywhere. Dorian is too busy taking in the view as Cullen leans in to inspect the engine to care and decides that he's the only one not getting greasy here and that just -isn't- right at all.

Cullen knew from the moment he saw Dorian Pavus that the man was going to be trouble. His only mistake was in misjudging what sort of trouble that was going to be.

As it was, his first impression after stepping out into the actual storefront of the garage were of clothes of far too fine a quality for this far out from the city. Although, to give credit where it was due, Dorian was listening to Merrill’s ramblings about her studies with far more patience than most.

“Oh, Mr. Rutherford!” Merrill exclaimed once she caught sight of him. “Your three o’clock is here. I was just about to come tell you, I promise, but—”

“My fault I’m afraid,” Dorian cut in. “Your secretary’s field of study is  _fascinating_  as I’m sure you know.”

“I can’t understand the half of it myself,” Cullen admitted. “But then she already outstrips anyone in her class so that doesn’t come as much as a surprise.” He wasn’t quite able to hide his own smaller smile when Merrill handed him over the paperwork with a wide, unaffected grin. “So, it’s your coolant?”

“Among other things.” Dorian braced himself against the counter with a sigh, seemingly unaware of the of Cullen’s eyebrows lifted at the sight. He seemed a good deal more conscious of the way Cullen’s eyes clung to the curve of his hips underneath those stitched tight pants, however. With any luck he would ignore how red the mechanic’s ears wound up becoming as a result. “The perils of owning an older model as it were.”

“Ah, well, you know what they say about beauty.” Cullen handed the paperwork back to Merrill, glad to let her handle the rest of the business related talk. To the surprise of no one, he was sure, all too handsome customers did nothing for the mess that already made up his social skills.

Which, of course, meant he had to wind up braining himself rather incredibly against the underside of the car when he spotted a pair of designer shoes besides the car.

“By the Maker, I certainly didn’t mean to…” 

Cullen had to blink at the sudden shift in lift as someone hooked a foot under the automotive creeper to tug him out from underneath the car. He arched a brow when his eyes adjusted enough to catch Dorian gaping at him.

“Something on my face?” he asked.

“More like on every bit of you.” Getting messy was impossible to avoid for any decent mechanic, yet Dorian hardly seem perturbed by it as his eyes raked across Cullen’s body. “And I thought you were striking  _before_.”

“I…” Cullen swallowed hard, although it did little to rid his voice of strain. “I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean.”

“Any number of things, I’m sure,” Dorian said. “I will admit to hoping for the most obvious, though.” He bent down to press his lips against Cullen’s cheek, not seeming to care about the marks he came away with on his pants, let alone the swipe of grease high on the arch of his own cheek. “You already have my phone number, Mr. Rutherford. What you decide to do with it is your own decision.”

“Might be simpler just to ask you for drinks  _now_.” Cullen grinned when Dorian laughed instead of rolling his eyes. “See you at the Gull and Lantern at six?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Dorian winked as he pushed Cullen back under the car. “Although I’ll hardly fault you if you don’t clean up  _quite_  as much.”


	118. Chapter 118

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We’re rivals. Not soulmates. We’re supposed to be at each other’s throats."

Cullen was no long fazed by the accusatory look sent his way or, on occasion, a pointed remark from one of the older mages. Even the Inquisitor hadn’t felt entirely comfortable around him until after he had passed a gambit of cautiously posed questions. If anything, the greater discomfort came from those templars that heard what had happened at the Circles where he had been stations and thought a sympathetic ear had been found for their—largely unfounded—prejudice towards mages.

That didn’t leave him incapable of bristling, however, at the claim he behaved more like a blood mage than a templar.

He knew better than to allow the words to take root enough to fester, but it was harder to shake the weight of it off than he would have liked. Not that such efforts were helped by how readily Karl seemed to rely on Dorian; a position marked enough that even Mother Giselle was moved to comment on it.

Still, he wasn’t going to provoke things into outright antagonism. If anything, it would keep yet another burden from dropping onto Karl’s shoulders. A decision that made him find his current predicament even  _more_  distasteful.

“As I already told you,” he said, “the Inquisitor left some time ago. So unless there’s something else you required—”

“So formal,” Dorian scoffed. “Do you insist he call you ‘Commander’ during your… _encounters_.”

“Our…” Cullen resisted the urge to scrub a hand over his face after he had tossed down his quill. He wasn’t going to get any proper work done it seemed so long as the mage refused to be budged. “I was unaware a summoning to the War Table was enough to cause scandal.”

“Oh, not those.” Dorian was far closer than Cullen remembered him being then, hip cocked against the desk as he leaned across it. “I’m referring to what comes  _after_. When you invite that lovely boy up to your room for—”

“You will not speak of him that way!” Cullen had a good deal more he was inclined to say, yet it was all aborted by him grabbing hold of Dorian’s wrist. Or, more accurately, the glowing that occurred not long after.

“That…” Dorian shook his head. “Well this quite takes the weight out of my efforts to scold you.”

“Scold me?” Cullen echoed, eyes going wide as his mind caught up. “You thought I was… I would never!” He fought back the ridiculous urge to laugh when Dorian scowled at him. “It has nothing to do with him being a mage! But I can’t think of him that way—he’s all but my ward.”

“Andraste preserve me,” Dorian muttered. “I thought you were… Well, with the stories you hear from the South…”

“Aren’t all lies,” Cullen admitted, “but I would  _never_.”

“And somehow I believe you,” Dorian huffed. “Funny that.” He tugged his wrist free, although he didn’t seem to mind the way Cullen’s fingers dragged across his newly made mark as a result. “I suppose the only way to properly apologize is to let you share dinner with me tonight.”

“Is that so?” Cullen chuckled.

“Why yes,” Dorian remarked, leaning in to press a kiss to Cullen’s forehead. “It very much is.”


	119. Chapter 119

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I’m not good enough for you. This is wrong."

It had been quite some time now since life had forced Cullen to understand that some things in life were needed while others could only ever be a want. To be fair, the mark that had inked its way onto his wrist did blur the expected lines, but he wasn’t about to reach out only to be burned.

He was rarely without his full armor unless at rest, so it was quite a surprise to climb down from the loft one afternoon to find Dorian there to drop off Cassandra’s usual report.

“Goodness, and I thought our Lady Seeker exaggerating. I could have just as easily left this on your desk, you know. Need not to have interrupted your…”

It was odd enough for Dorian not to be filling the available silence with his own voice that Cullen’s eyes flicked upward. Only to find his throat constricting when he found the other man’s eyes drawn to the patch of skin that his sleeve had fallen away to reveal as he reached for the bundle of documents Dorian held.

“It’s nothing,” he hastened. “Only a—”

“Only the Pavus family crest.” The documents tumbled to the floor as Dorian grabbed hold of Cullen’s wrist, twisting it over for a better look. “This… This is most cruel.”

“Cruel?” Cullen echoed. “Dorian, I would  _never_ …”

“Of course not.” Dorian smoothed his thumb over the mark—enough to make it hum with warmth—before dropping Cullen’s wrist. “Another reason why I am quite beyond deserving this.” He was undoing the straps at his wrist before Cullen could even finish forming the question in his mouth, leaving the man before him to feel as though all the air had been punched from his lungs all at once.

Where Dorian’s mark  _should_  have been, there was only scar tissue.

“My father’s handiwork,” Dorian remarked, voice tight. “He was nothing if not thorough, after all. It had been my trump card, really; that even if the ritual worked I would still have a soulmate to tip things in my favor. I should never have mentioned it. Should have simply…” He inhaled sharply when Cullen took his hands in his, steadying the shakes if only for a moment.

“You did nothing wrong,” Cullen said. “And… And I would like to prove that if you’ll let me.”

“You would still want me?” Dorian murmured.

“ _Always_.”


	120. Chapter 120

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do I have to do to make him realize I want him to claim me?!” Either with clueless Alpha Cullen thinking Dorian just flirts with everyone, or confused Alpha Dorian who doesn't think an Omega like Cullen would ever really be interested in him.

Cullen didn’t quite leap out of his skin when he returned from drills to discover a certain mage in his office, but it was a close thing. As it was, he could already be certain that he had made enough of an ass out of himself by slamming his shoulder against the door when he startled. 

He shook his head, resisting the urge to try to rub at the sore spot through the armor somehow. “Can I help you?” He bit down on the inside of his mouth when the only response was a smile. “Apologies, but I can’t imagine you would have come here without—”

“I received some curious news recently,” Dorian cut in. “From a certain little bird, in fact.”

Cullen frowned, remembering how Karl had insisted on posing a string of questions before he could return to his rooms. It was difficult to feel any real irritation towards the boy, however, more for the earnest warmth that had been in his expression than for his lofty rank. 

“Is that so?” He skirted around Dorian, doing his best not to focus on the scent of all too strong alpha that had already settled in everywhere as he collapsed down into his chair. “Don’t leave me in suspense then.”

“Apparently things are more different down South than I expected,” Dorian said. “Here, you actually expect omegas to go chasing after alphas.”

Cullen blinked once, then twice, struggling to piece together what he had just heard into some frame that made sense. “I…” He shook his head. “And why would that come as a surprise?”

He actually tipped back in his chair, eyebrows skating up towards his hairline when Dorian broke out in laughter.

“Excuse me, but…but that simply makes no sense whatsoever.” Dorian pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead, still shaking somewhat with the force of his earlier humor. “You lot are the ones with all the power hidden away inside you. How can you expected to risk everything if us alphas haven’t managed to prove our worth to you.”

“Is that how it’s done in Tevinter?” Cullen asked.

“Very much so,” Dorian replied. “And here I thought I had been putting on quite a good show this whole time.”

“You were…” It took Cullen a bit of effort to force his throat to unclench, well aware that a blush had already crept onto his face. “Why would you even want to do such a thing?”

“Because you’re  _you_.” Dorian caught Cullen’s hand well the other man was still too caught off guard to resist, pressing a kiss to the knuckles with a wink. “It’s part of what I’ll endeavor to prove to you.”

 

 


	121. Chapter 121

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian + flirty starters Dorian saying “Oh, don’t mind me. Just enjoying the view.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ABO verse

Cullen was no stranger to prejudice. It had taken their parents swearing to the templars come to collect a new recruit that it was  _him_  who had been promised instead of his brother. Then there had been Greagoir who chastised him over his attempts to “nurture” the mages for speaking with them overlong or Meredith that thought his promotion showed her benevolence. Even the apostate had argued that Cullen should join his cause in Kirkwall as another oppressed group.

So, no, it didn’t come as a surprise that the outpouring of fresh recruits that came with the Inquisition taking Skyhold also came with quite a collection of snickers at the realization of who—or  _what_ —their commanding officer would be. It certainly didn’t keep the grins from the faces of the more seasoned troop members either as he took each new member to the ring to test their abilities.

He didn’t realize until things had come to a close with the recruits grumbling their way to the tavern that anyone else had bothered to come watch.

“Oh, don’t mind me.” There was something devious to the smile that spread across Dorian’s lips, however, when Cullen startled away from the post he had been leaning on. “I was only enjoying the view.”

Cullen fought the urge to cross his arms over his chest, aware that he had lost his shirt somewhere in the middle of all the bouts of fighting. He trusted the Inquisitor when Loki swore that the mage was of no threat to them and he certainly knew better by now to hold where the man had come from against him. But that did nothing to soothe the alarms it set off to have an alpha, let alone one that had already proven his own might, leering at him in such a way.

“Apologies,” he murmured. “I really return to my…”

“So soon?” Dorian asked. “Without even pausing for a drink at the tavern? That does seem what your colleagues are inclined to do. I’ll even buy you one myself.”

“No!” Cullen winced at how Dorian’s eyebrows shot up. “That is to say… I didn’t mean to cause offense.”

“Of course not.” Cullen tensed at the fingers pressed to his elbow, but he didn’t jerk back. “How could you?” The heavy sigh Dorian let out was something of a surprise. “I don’t know what experiences you may have had, but coupled with my homeland’s reputation for… _well_. How about a game of chess instead?”

Cullen hesitated for a moment then, “Only if you can stand losing, my lord.”

Dorian managed two long, startled blinks before erupting in laughter, which, somehow, made everything worth it all at once. “Oh, you are  _on_ , Commander.”


	122. Chapter 122

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re important too."

Being overlooked was hardly a foreign concept to Dorian. More often than not, the intent was harmless. The Inquisitor would snag another mage to boost her own magic, forgetting that she had sworn to bring him along. Not a hardship when it meant avoiding some truly foul environments that Thedas had to offer and when Lavellan paid her debts through drinks down at the tavern.

Others were less benign, however. Like the Chantry Sisters that had attempted to avoid laying their blessings upon him at prayer; something he was surprised to find Mother Giselle scolding them for. It had even taken a few lectures from Josephine for the other archivists to start to take his procurement requests seriously.

Still, out of everyone in Skyhold, Cullen was the very last person he would have expected to stand him up. Even more so for something as regular as their chess matches.

Dorian pushed up from his chair when he became certain that he wasn’t imagining the titters coming from a few of the onlookers. If the Commander thought put off coming without any advance notice then he would simply have to be informed of what improper behavior it was.

The bluster that had allowed him to storm across the ramparts, however, slamming the door open to Cullen’s office, all sapped clear out of him when the man’s head jerked up from his desk, ink smeared across his cheek.

“Dorian? What are you…” Horror flashed across Cullen’s face. “What time is it? Did I…”

“Hush now,” Dorian murmured. He couldn’t resist the smile that crept across his face as he leaned over to scrub the ink from Cullen’s cheek, even as the man blushed under his touch. “How hard did you work yourself today? Or this a holdover from yesterday when you were determined to get through that whole stack of papers before bed?”

Cullen shifted up in his seat, frame gone tight with tension. “The Inquisition is important,” he said.

“Of course it is.” Dorian dropped a kiss to the tip of Cullen’s nose. “But you’re important too. Whatever would I do if something happened to you?”

Cullen’s expression twisted with something dangerously close to sadness, yet he hid it away by clasping Dorian’s wrist close enough to chase after the pulse point there with his mouth. “You’ll never have to find out, my heart.”


	123. Chapter 123

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "giving a lap dance"

Dorian wasn’t about to complain about the current state of his life. Not when he had a job he could be proud of at last with a man who could never seem to love him well enough. It was only that all that complacency had lead to things growing rather dull in other areas.

Cullen never tried to shut down any attempts at discussion, but that didn’t stop Dorian from being far too undone by his near palatable discomfort to press further. Besides, it wasn’t as if he could necessarily bemoan being scooped up like he was something precious whenever the time came.

So, really, he wasn’t at all pleased to realize what sort of place the Iron Bull had brought him to. Although, all things considered, he honestly should have known better.

“Bull, I’m not…” Dorian thrust a hand over his face, letting out a groan that was swallowed in the pulsating music. All the flesh on display was hardly distasteful, of course, but none of it stirred to something deeper as it once would have. “Even you must have known this was inappropriate?”

“Aw, come on, Dorian,” Bull grinned. “I’m just giving you some inspiration. Or, well, someone else more like.”

“I don’t—”

Dorian almost swallowed his tongue at the slide of lips across the back of his neck, although that was nothing to how his heart stuttered over a familiar, rough voice at his ear.

“I’ve got it from here, Bull.”

“Aye, aye, Commander.” Bull even managed a mock salute before sauntering over to the bar where Dorian’s far too smug best friend was waiting.

Not that he managed to maintain a view of the rest of the establishment for long as Cullen braced himself over his lap, legs hitting down on the plush velvet of the booth.

“I know you’ve done this before.” The soft press of Cullen’s lips to the corner of his mouth cut away any babbling attempts at an apology. “So, remember, this isn’t yours to control.”

“Easy for you to…” Dorian slammed his head back when Cullen swayed above him. “Where did you even learn how to do this?”

“Well, Isabela was rather invested.” Cullen chuckled when Dorian pulled a face. “But I would rather not have you thinking of her now, love.”

As if that was something to worry about when Cullen snatched away his hold on rational thought bit by but with each roll of his hips. He didn’t even realize he had tried to grab hold to anchor himself until Cullen seized hold of his wrists, pinning his arms above his head.

“You never did like rules.” Cullen swallowed up Dorian’s whimper with a kiss, teeth tugging across the man’s bottom lip as he drew back. “But I never did say you couldn’t come.”

“You are…” Dorian came close to biting his tongue when Cullen dipped his head to sink his teeth into the arch of his throat. He didn’t doubt he would have a rather impressive display of bruises come morning, although at the moment he was too busy with burying his shout into Cullen’s shoulder as he arched up into him.

“You still here with me?” Cullen had dropped his hands by now, chasing after the pulse point on his wrist with his thumb. “I hope it wasn’t too much? I just wanted to—”

Dorian surged up to silence Cullen with a kiss, unable to keep a rise of pride at how his lover moaned into his mouth at being tugged free from it by his hair. “It’s a good thing this booth has a curtain,” he said, “since I’m not leaving here before you fuck your cock down my mouth.”

It was something of a wonder that, even when clearly turned on beyond measure, Cullen still managed to kiss him with all the adoration in the world.


	124. Chapter 124

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I know it's not listed but my favorite soulmate tropes is being able to feel the strong feelings of their soulmate. If they're angry, their soulmate can feel it and think calming thoughts back. If they're feeling love or pleasure, it's doubled, a current between them

There would never be a shortage of tales about soulmates. Parents used honeyed versions to serve as examples to their children, ones that would color their gossip when older. It didn’t seem fair to lump all the hardships that came with finding the other person on them then, let alone the concept that even discovering them might not be enough.

Ferelden was more lax on such matters, after all, but, in other nations, nobles were expected to marry for the benefit of the bloodlines. A soulmate was the kind of weak spot one hid away in the bedroom, not on one’s arm.

Not that Dorian had ever seen any sense in following convention.

“Dorian.” Cullen bucked upwards, fingers dragging hard lines down the other man’s back. “Dorian,  _please_.”

Learning to ease Cullen’s desperation, his attraction had taken some doing. Their first attempt at lying together like this had been over so quickly that all either could do was laugh. Although, honestly, Dorian didn’t think he would ever grow use to the sheer amount of unguarded love Cullen pushed at him whenever he had him like this.

“Apologies,  _amatus_.” He dropped a kiss to the corner of Cullen’s mouth that had the man mewling when he pulled away. “I was simply enjoying the view.” He yelped at being rolled over, although it was hard to feel truly offended with Cullen’s warm laughter rolling all across him.  

“Hm, yes,” Cullen grinned. “I can see how you might be distracted.” He hooked a finger through one of the rings at Dorian’s nipple when he began to cant his hips downward, which was truly unfair.

“Now who’s the tease?” Dorian demanded through grit teeth.

“Not me.” It was truly unfair that Cullen could still manage to look so innocent while spread open above him. “The quicker I get you off the sooner you can recover for the next round.”

“You’re terrible,” Dorian muttered, “and I hate you.”

Cullen let his laughter be smothered in a kiss, nipping at Dorian’s bottom lip. “ _Liar_.”


	125. Chapter 125

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Don’t cry. I promise I will love you and protect you to the best of my ability, til death do we part.”
> 
> Arranged Marriage AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Halward Pavus’ A+ Parenting leading to some misgendering commentary here

To say that Cullen had certain reservations about being paired off with a mage—let alone one from Tevinter—would have been an understatement. It had little to do with any lingering resentment from his time as a templar, so much as how that shadow over his past was bound to look. He found it difficult to imagine any mage that could feel at home with someone who once might have served as their guard (and that was to use a more polite term).

Still, Alistair had sworn that it would serve their own country well even before Elias had cut in to point out that, regardless, it was what was best for the mage in question.

If Cullen hadn’t believed the Prince Consort in that moment than he certainly did now. He could already feel a headache brewing beneath his temples as Halward Pavus pressed on with a spiel that truly should have ended ages ago. In the end, he rose a hand, little caring how disrespectful it might appear for him to interrupt.

“Excuse me,” he said, “but, to my knowledge, I was marrying a  _man_.”

Halward’s face twisted as though he had just smelt something unpleasant, although his child met his gaze fearlessly all the same. “Apologies, Ser Rutherford. I do not know what my daughter might have said to you, but as it stands—”

“It was my countries rulers who told me,” Cullen cut in (yet again), “not your  _son_. Which, to be clear, is exactly how I see the man before me.”

Dorian jerked up straight in his seat at that, eyes wide, even as Halward sighed. “I suppose it makes little matter. Pander to the girl’s foolishness if you want. I can assure you that she remains capable of carrying out her duty, regardless of any seeming reluctance. The deal would never have been struck had the proper examinations not been struck.”

“Examination…” Cullen swallowed hard at the waver in Dorian’s expression, despite the fact that the lift of the man’s head had not dropped once. “Lord Pavus, I suggest you take your leave before I am forced to do something unpleasant.” 

“Ser, I do not see—”

“That was not a suggestion, my lord,” Cullen bit out. He barely waited for the man to stalk out with a scoff cast over his shoulder before darting around the desk to drop to his knees before Dorian. “Are you alright?” 

“How kind of you to ask.” Dorian swore against the tremble in his voice swiping at kohl lined eyes. He didn’t resist when Cullen took one of his hands in a loose hold, however, swiping a thumb over his knuckles. “You did not have to… I will still be yours regardless so there’s little reason to show such kindness.”

Cullen inhaled sharply. “Maker’s breath,” he hissed, “of course there is!” He reached up to swipe at a tear that had slipped free, doing his best to smile. “Don’t cry. I promise to protect you to the best of my ability. And how can I love you if I do not accept all of you?”

“Love,” Dorian huffed, yet there was a timid smile on his lips, “now there’s a dream.”

“More than that,” Cullen murmured, pressing a kiss to the hand still in his grasp. “I promise.”


	126. Chapter 126

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘we’ve been fucking with no strings attached but i just saw you go upstairs with another guy and im drunk and following you both upstairs to punch the shit out of him’ with drunk!Cullen? preferably not angsty with Dorian meeting with someone (Carver?) to get Cullen a gift.

Dorian didn’t get properly drunk often. An upbringing where the sampling of lovely vintages was encouraged despite one’s age tended to cultivate a high tolerance, after all. But if he was meant to get through the entirety of this party without expressing  _too_  much interest in Cullen then he was going to need something else to occupy his time with.

It did an even better job at helping him ignore the far too pitying looks of his friends. He was halfway through trying to wrangle back the bottle Felix had snatched from his hands when he spotted something that made him freeze half draped over the back of the couch.

“Felix?” he said. “Who is that dragging Cullen upstairs?”

“What was that? I thought you didn’t know anything about… Ow!” Felix rubbed the spot on his head that Dorian had swatted, frowning as he cast his eyes over to the stairs. “Oh, that’s Carver. Looks like he has something that he needs Cullen to do.”

Dorian took in the way Carver’s hand had settled low on the back of Cullen’s back to push him upstairs, leaning in far closer than was necessary to tell him something with just the hint of a smile on his lips. “Or some _one_ ,” he muttered.

It wasn’t necessarily an easy feat to wrangle himself free from the couch, but he managed it, even if he did have to abandon any efforts on being stealthy about halfway up the stairs.

His stomach churned in a way that had nothing to do with all that he had drunk at the giggles emitting from one of the rooms. Except, even though he found Cullen on the bed with Carver when he spun inside, it wasn’t at all how he thought.

“I can’t believe that’s how you thought to tell Dorian.” Carver shoved at Cullen’s shoulder, shaking his head. “I mean, I’ve at least managed to come up with something better for Felix.”

“Sure you have. That’s why he’s still downstairs while you’re up here…” Cullen trailed off when he caught sight of Dorian, face splotching up with patches of red all at once. “Dorian? What are you—”

“Not punching someone apparently.” Dorian sighed when Cullen sputtered. “Not that I would have much right to anyway.”

“Good on you,” Carver said, pushing up from the bed. “You’d probably break your hand if you tried anyway. But…um…you might have more of a right than you think?”

Dorian was left blinking after the youngest Hawke sibling (who would have thought a boy that large could move so fast?) while Cullen shouted the man’s name after him.

“I… I feel a bit lost,” he admitted. “What other reason could you have for coming up here?”

“For privacy.” Cullen caught Dorian’s hand in his when the other man scoffed, tugging him in between his spread legs. “Wanted to try out a way to break the fact that I love you instead of ambushing you with it.”

“That’s ridiculous! How couldn’t someone take that as…” Dorian paused, managing two long blinks. “Ah.” 

In retrospect he should have provided a bit more warning before tackling Cullen to the bed, but it wasn’t as if the man was complaining between kisses.

 

 


	127. Chapter 127

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can I request "It's okay to call me what I am. A whore, don't need to sugar coat it." For Cullrian? Dorian has a self hatred going that can be seen from space sometimes.

Dorian didn’t like things that he couldn’t understand. It was part of what fueled his drive to break things down until he could discover what made it operate how it did. There was no reason for the Commander of the Inquisition—so otherwise simple—to defy that logic.

It was a dance he was all to familiar with. All it took was the regular chess matches, followed by just the right hint of teasing for him to get a hint of it. Then Cullen was inviting him for more private engagements within his office; a sign that the game truly was afoot.

Or, at least it would have been, had Cullen not responded to his lingering touches with little more than a sweet smile. There were no offers to join the other man in the loft, although he had got walked back to his own rooms before, receiving nothing but a warm clasp on the arm at the end.

The other man had to be playing with him, of that, Dorian was sure. Except the shock on Cullen’s face when Dorian finally snapped, letting the bottle of wine tumble to the floor as he scrambled into the Commander’s lap, hardly seemed feigned.

“D—Dorian, what are you… You’re behaving as though—”

“Like a whore?” Dorian forced out a laugh, despite how it tore at his throat, when Cullen flinched back as though struck. “It’s more than alright to call me what I am. There’s no need to sugar coat the matter for me.”

He leaned in for another kiss only to find himself being lifted upwards, dropped down entirely unceremoniously on Cullen’s desk.

“I won’t hear such talk.” Cullen caught Dorian by the chin, thumb pressing to the man’s lips to silence his protests. “You shine from the inside out like gold. I will not stand to hear anyone insult you, let alone yourself.”

Dorian let out a noise of frustration, barely resisting tugging at his hair. “Then why do you…?” He shook his head. “You can’t say things like that then turn me away!”

“I can if it’s not sex I’m after,” Cullen said. “Or, well, not  _only_  that. I just realized you were interested at all, Dorian. Give a man time to court you?”

He didn’t laugh in the face of Dorian’s tears, which was quite new even without the way he cradled Dorian close, fingers stroking across his skull.


	128. Chapter 128

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breathtaking kiss

Dorian wasn’t sure what to make of Cullen (Stanton, apparently, and wasn’t that delicious) Rutherford. He had all but given up any attempts flirting, given how quick the other man was to fluster beneath it, changing the topic all but immediately. Except Cullen had been there to slide one of a kind books he would like to Dorian to think he found “by chance” into his spot in the library. There had even been flowers left in his quarts, carefully bound with string, or wines imported from his very own homeland.

Except, after their first night together, there had been…nothing.

It wasn’t as though Dorian were unfamiliar with such practices. To be fair, the lead up had been far more elaborate than any that he had experience just far, but there was no reason for the fallout of it to take him so aback. Only, if just perhaps, because he had thought (or perhaps just hoped) that Cullen would be better.

He could already hear the titters of the Chantry sisters, no doubt lead by Mother Giselle, as he sat at the chessboard for yet again that day. Perhaps, if he fiddled with the pieces just enough, it could somehow summon Cullen to him. Not that he didn’t know that for the hogwash it was.

“Dorian!” The man in question almost upended the entire table all at once, eyes snapping up to a Commander who had no right to be so handsome when out of breath. “I’m so sorry, the Inquisitor kept us in the War Room for hours trying to figure out something with Antiva. All went over my head, I’m afraid. Could have used you there.”

This, Dorian knew, was where he was supposed to come up with some properly scathing retort except then Cullen was  _kissing_  him in full view of everyone and just…just… _well_.

“Dorian?” Cullen’s smile was soft when Dorian came back to himself to find the other man stroking his thumbs in gentle arcs across the high curve of his cheekbone. “You seem a dozen miles away at least, my heart. Did I—”

“’My heart’?” Dorian let out a truly ridiculous noise when Cullen flushed, dragging the other man in for another, far rougher kiss. “I demand an hour of cuddling at  _least_  for this insult.”

“Insult?” Cullen echoed. “Is it really a… Ah!” His voice got a good bit squeakier when Dorian dipped down to nip at his jaw. “Right!”


	129. Chapter 129

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scar Kiss

It wasn’t that Dorian had only ever been with unmarked men. He was only far more accustomed to it relating to some sort of self-inflicted modification. He had his own fair share when it came to that; something Cullen loved to take full advantage of (sometimes even outside of the bedroom).

Cullen, however, was built in every way a Commander should be. The man’s hands were tougher than any nobleman’s ever could be, callouses catching on almost every bit of Dorian’s skin he got to catch. It was far more intimate than he would have expected to know where each scar had come from.

Well, almost every one.

“Cullen.” The man in question made a distracted little huff in response, not that Dorian could quite blame him. He was drawing his tongue over the indention that bisected his lips. “How did you get this?”

Cullen offered up two long blinks, although Dorian caught his chin before he could entirely duck his head. “It…” he said. “It isn’t kind.”

Dorian frowned at that, able to remember how his hands had shaken over the spot where Cullen had all but been gutted from the Kirkwall rebellions. And that was without even touching on those that had resulted from Kinloch Hold. “Scars rarely are,” he replied.

Cullen shook his head. “I…” He prodded at the scar with a wince. “The Warden didn’t take kindly to her kind being referred to abominations. Nor should she.”

Dorian sucked in a far sharper breath than he meant to, heart seizing up when Cullen grimaced. “It’s in the past,” he said. “That you were able to move past it proves you a better man.”

“But I should never…” Cullen sighed. “I broke her heart, Dorian. And… And my own.”

“I see.” Dorian wasn’t keen on admitting how much hearing that affected him, even if he was already well aware of his lover’s first indulgence, of a sort. It was easier to push away any of his more ridiculous tendencies when he had Cullen staring up at him with such open affection, holding him close even now. “But I still trust you not to do the same to me, you know.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Cullen murmured. 

“Ah, Commander,” Dorian replied, “who does?” It was easier to draw the man into another kiss, swallowing down each broken sound, but maybe, one day soon, he could be able to give voice to what lingered on the tip of his tongue.

_“i love you.”_


	130. Chapter 130

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> slow dancing in a nearly empty bar owned by a friend. a nice date after a long.

Dorian knew that he wasn’t always the easiest man to put up with, let alone date. There were times when he found difficult to believe that he would ever be as comfortably open with his affections as others managed to be. A pessimistic outlook made all the worst by the fact that he had somehow managed to land the most warm, unabashedly open Southerner of them all,

He wanted to be better, for Cullen’s sake if not his own, but it seemed a hard goal to grasp when he still had a habit of flinching away from a hand grasping for his own without warning. Not that the scene he had made at discovering Cullen waiting in his office earlier that day, announcing to one and all just whose he was, had been much better.

It was a wonder that their plans to head to Hawke’s had even been kept. Even the gentle press of Cullen’s thigh against his—something he certainly didn’t feel to own a right to—didn’t abate the guilt that rose ever sharper under the suspicious glowers of their friends.

The doors to the bar had long since been locked up against the public, but Garrett didn’t have any qualms about cranking up the stereo once Isabela began to spin a giggling Merrill about.

All the more fortunate, really.

“Cullen?” Dorian only just managed to hold back a grimace when his partner’s doleful face turned towards him. At least it was quick to clear away when Dorian rose to offer his hand. “Dance with me?”

It was at a slower pace than those around them, to be sure, not that Dorian much cared. Far better to have Cullen held tight, no matter what the rhythm.

“I’m sorry.” Dorian pressed his lips tight when Cullen’s eyebrows only rose in surprise. “You deserve better.”

“Then you?” Cullen replied. “Not possible, from what I’ve seen.”

“You can’t just…” Dorian huffed when Cullen only chuckled, dropping a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I want to  _try_.”

“That’s all I’ll ever ask of you.” Cullen spun Dorian away only once before drawing him back in to let him cling as much as he liked. “It’s enough to be loved by you.”

“That will never change,” Dorian said, grateful to have something at ease on his tongue at last. “How could it ever?”


	131. Chapter 131

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> one of them trying to get the other one off of drugs au

It was entirely unsurprising, at least to Dorian, that the Inquisition’s Commander seemed to despise every second spent in the Winter Palace. The poor man probably didn’t even realize that that was exactly what kept gathering him the “admirers” that he disliked with almost the same vigor.

He had expected Leliana or, at the very least, Josephine to come along eventually to set the man free, yet neither seemed prepared to pull at that particular thread with so many eyes upon them. Not that Dorian was particularly put out about being the one who have to do it. If there was thing he was used to causing, after all, it was any variety of scandals.

He had to pause mid-stride, however, breath most certainly  _not_ catching in his throat, when he caught Cullen being guided away from the crowds by another man. No Orlesian ever did anything charitable without a chance for profit from it; at least not with the courtiers. There could be no mistaking what the arm hung low around Cullen’s waist had to mean either, not paired with the near sly duck of the other man’s mask towards Cullen’s cheek.

It was of no interest to Dorian who the Commander might chose for a dalliance. Although if he had known that Cullen preferred men that forward he might have… Ah, well, as he had said before, it was of no matter to him. Not anymore, at any rate.

He might have turned away entirely were it not for how Cullen almost slumped over in the man’s arms. Dorian was certainly close enough to hear the man chuckle in response, along with a hushed, “Now, now,  _mon cher_ , we wouldn’t want to alarm anyone would we?”

“Too late.” Dorian could sense the glare of the man on him from behind the mask as he stepped in front of the pair, but he only lifted his chin, arms folding over his chest. “What did you do to him?”

“Why I didn’t—”

“Dori… Dorian?” Cullen’s arm twitched as though to reach for him, only to frown at the hand that clamped down on his arm to abort the movement. “I don’t quite… There was a drink…I think?”

“Quite a few,” the Orlesian said. “I don’t think your Commander is quite…ah…light with such wines for a man of his stature.”

“And you are a fool for an Orlesian.” 

It was just like Leliana to appear out of nowhere, although Dorian had to catch Cullen when the Orlesian leapt hard enough to drop him. He put in an effort at squawking threats right up until Leliana’s fingers curled around his throat.

“I will handle this,” she said. “Please see to our mutual friend, Dorian? He trusts you.”

“No, he…” Dorian clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth when Leliana dragged the man away. “No you don’t,” he muttered, somewhere in the direction of Cullen’s curls.

“Y—Yes… Yes, I do!” Cullen was pouting in a way he certainly wouldn’t if in the right state of mind, cheeks flushed. “It’s just that you’re…you’re too…”

“I’m sure whatever I am can wait until you feel better.” Dorian was careful with his hands, easing out a sigh of relief when Cullen merely leaned into him, quite ready to be guided out of the ballroom.

It wasn’t until later, after Dorian had tucked him into bed with a glass of water infused with elfroot, that Cullen caught his hand to murmur, “I was going to say you were too  _good_.”

Perhaps it was for the best that he passed out once the tears started to gather in Dorian’s eyes.


	132. Chapter 132

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I found you asleep in the stacks. we're closed. please go home." 
> 
> Library AU

Dorian was aware of how fortunate he had managed to be after casting in to the lottery that was work studies. A love for literature, even when paired with a baseline of experience, couldn’t guarantee anything. At least this way, though, he could be certain that he only got through on his own merit rather than family influence greasing the way.

All of that was what he had to remind himself at times like these when Lavellan slunk down the stairs at closing, shame faced.

“What is it this time?” Dorian asked. He was already making a concentrated effort to push any lingering thoughts of bed out of his mind. And to think he had just had the good sense to purchase a bed warmer too.

“More like who.” Lavellan spread out her hands. “There’s someone asleep between the stacks.”

Dorian hesitated, as if a bit more time could have any of that make the proper amount of sense. “I beg your pardon?” He shook his head when Lavellan only shrugged. “No, no, no one can be that—”

“It’s exam season, Dorian,” Lavellan cut in. “Does anything make sense in exam season?”

Dorian almost gave in to the urge to rub a hand over his face, even though it would have done dreadful things to the liner still smudged around his eyes. “Alright fine,” he said. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you!” Lavellan said. “I’ll shut down everything else, yeah?”

“Yeah.” It was quite refreshing, truth be told, to have managed to befriend someone who always managed to keep their word. Before arriving at the college he had almost thought Felix to have been a fluke.

It wasn’t until he got all the way up the stairs that he realized he had forgotten to ask Lavellan which stacks were being occupied. He barely even had a chance to turn back around, however, before spying sneakers sticking out from nearby. More than enough, really, to have him prepared to kick the feet until whoever it was got their act together.

Except rounding the stacks had the bluster sinking out of him all at once. Not just at the sight of a pretty face—he wasn’t  _that_  bad (even for boys that unfairly looked angelic when passed out on library floors). It was only that this man also had to be clutching a copy of  _Alice in Wonderland_  in his sleep. Just to make Dorian’s heart do extra foolish things apparently.

He didn’t even quite realize that the other boy had begun to stir awake until he was starting up so bad that he actually whacked his head off the shelves.

“Don’t…!” Dorian crouched down, hissing out through his teeth. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah…I just…” The boy pressed the tips of his fingers against his forehead only to grimace. “Had to fall asleep with all the thick, hard covered classics.”

“Good company to keep at least.” Dorian swallowed hard when the boy frowned at him. “You…erm…” 

“Oh!” It wasn’t fair at all how the boy’s face entirely lit up when he glanced down at the book in his hands. “It’s for a final paper, actually. A lot of trying to decipher the historical puzzles in it and all…” He trailed off, expression becoming sheepish. “I don’t suppose it’s too late to check it out?”

A quick trip downstairs had Dorian learning the boy’s name— _Cullen_ —while getting to watch him hurry out into the cold until being interrupted by Lavellan’s far too wide grin.

“What are you…” Dorian narrowed his eyes at her. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

“Course not,” Lavellan said. “Just a bit of good luck.” She leaned in across the counter before Dorian could scold her. “He eats at my table in the dining hall all the time. Just so you know.”


	133. Chapter 133

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From DAPromptExchange: Dorian is a rock singing sensation appealing to men and women around the world. Cullen is his security guard and spends near every waking moment with him. They're very close friends and Cullen is pining horribly. But so is Dorian, who decides to write a song for Cullen that will tell the man his feelings finally.

There were very few pockets of the world without at least some sort of opinion on Dorian Pavus, but the Big Apple never did miss a chance to up the ante. It was a prospect that most of the man’s entourage tended to revel in. The only exception tended to be the members that made up security. Or, more accurately, the man in charge of it all.

“Oh, come now!” Even in between darting about with her clipboard, which she had looked ready to lob at one more man’s head when the sound nearly failed, Josephine still found time to try to pinch at Cullen’s cheeks. “If you don’t try for at least a  _semblance_ of a smile then Dorian might very well pitch a fit.”

“There are more than enough people here that will fix that for him.” Cullen batted away Josephine’s hands as carefully as he could without something an entirely too vengeful Leliana from the wings. “He loves big crowds, you know that.”

At least Dorian had left the casual sex with groupies in the haze of his starting career. It had been a stretch that had fine tuned Cullen’s poker face, but had done very little for the man beneath it.

It was more than stupid at this point to continue to carry a torch for a man so clearly uninterested, but then again no one had ever accused Cullen of being clever.

Either way, he was quite alright with contenting himself with Dorian’s friendship, even if it did lead him to roll his eyes at the kiss pressed to his cheek when the man arrived.

“What?” Dorian said. “It’s for luck!”

“Uh-huh,” Cullen replied. “As the glitter from your lipstick alone isn’t going to remain there for at least a week.”

“Excellent.” Dorian only tolerated the fussing over his costume—if dangerously tight pants and a glitter streaked chest could be called that—for so long before shimmying away. “Would hate for anyone to make the mistake of you belonging to someone else.”

“Don’t worry,” Cullen said, “I won’t let anyone else snatch me away.”

“There’s a good boy.” It was just as good that the roar of the crowd covered up the hitch in Cullen’s breath that came even before Dorian patted him on the cheek. “Wish me luck?”

“As if you’ll need it.” Cullen reached out to squeeze Dorian’s hand all the same, though. “You’re always beautiful out there.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Dorian said, almost a warning.

It wasn’t as if Cullen was wrong, however, even without the overwhelming reactions from the packed audience to prove his point. Even without the impossibly hypnotic quality of Dorian’s voice, the man was a true showman, able to keep people far too enraptured to even think of looking away. 

“Wait a moment.” Leliana didn’t take kindly to Cullen tugging on her elbow—no doubt wrinkling the soft fabric somehow—but she didn’t pull away. “Did he just say that this song is for someone he—”

“Loves?” Leliana’s eyes were far too bright, smile edged with mischief. “Yes, I do believe so. Perhaps you should pay attention then.”

If not for the understanding that Leliana would never be purposefully cruel, Cullen might have had Cassandra cover his post so that he could head off to nurse his wounds in peace. Having to watch Dorian croon into the microphone with all the warm tenderness in the world was about as enjoyable as the dates he had had to chaperon every so often.

> _Your sugar_  
>  Yes, please  
> Won’t you come and put it down on me?  
> I’m right here, ‘cause I need  
> Little love, a little sympathy  
> Yeah, you show me good loving  
> Make it alright  
> Need a little sweetness in my life  
> Your sugar  
> Yes, please  
> Won’t you come and put it down on me?  
>   
> My broken pieces  
> You pick them up  
> Don’t leave me hanging, hanging  
> Come give me some  
> When I’m without ya  
> I’m so insecure  
> You are the one thing, one thing  
> I’m living for

Cullen scrubbed a hand over his face, willing himself to appear at least somewhat composed before Dorian finished up the encore. Except, of course, any chance of that was blown away once the man in question wrapped up the song.

“Now let’s only hope my lion adores me as much as you lovely people, huh, New York?”

Cullen reached up to press his fingers to the tattoo traced over his upper shoulder; the one that Dorian had been there to see done. “Oh, Maker’s breath,” he muttered. “I’m definitely dreaming, aren’t I?”

“I would hope not.” It was only from this close that Cullen could catch the slight tremble in Dorian’s frame, although he had hardly even realized the man had come offstage. “It was nerve-wracking enough to do that once I’ll have you know.”

“Because you…” Cullen swallowed hard. “…love me?”

“Yes, actually,” Dorian said. “It’s incredibly distracting too, I’ll have you know. I blame it entirely on your tendency to walk around tour buses  _shirtless_. And do you have to be so brilliant at chess? Not to mention so damn sweet that isn’t even…”

The rest was swallowed up by a yelp when Cullen swept Dorian up over his shoulder, chuckling despite his blush when the man buried his face into Cullen’s neck at having his ass swatted when he tried to squirm away.

“I suppose you can handle it from here?”

“Oh, most definitely,” Leliana chuckled. “Do enjoy yourselves, boys! I didn’t book that hotel suite for nothing!”


	134. Chapter 134

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Okay, name one time pretending to be soulmates got us in trouble.” Dorian and Felix often pretend to be soulmates for shenanigans and of course Dorian's real soulmate Cullen gets the wrong idea, having been pining from afar.

“No.”

Dorian didn’t think it was entirely unwarranted for him to stare Felix down quite so hard. More often than not, the other man would at least let him run through a plan before shooting it down. “Pardon me?” he said.

Felix lowered his book with a sigh. “I can already tell where this is going,” he said, “and I’m not about to pretend to be your soulmate again.”

“Oh, come on,” Dorian shot back. “Name one time that pretending to be soulmates got us in trouble.”

Felix didn’t say anything, merely jabbing a finger over Dorian’s shoulder. Which was entirely unfair when Cullen fucking Rutherford had apparently taken over a library table behind them, looking as glorious as usual as he laughed with friends.

“I told you that isn’t funny anymore,” Dorian ground out.

“I know, it’s actually tragic at this point.” Felix held up his hands when Dorian glared at him. “Look, just don’t punch me for this, alright?”

Dorian arched a brow, although that promise became a bit harder to keep when Felix called Cullen over to their damn table.

“Um, I’m sorry.” Cullen rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes stuck on the table. “Were we being too loud?”

“Not at all,” Felix replied. “Just needed to prove a point.”

Cullen looked about as confused as Dorian did right up until Felix grabbed Cullen’s hand, slamming it down onto Dorian’s shoulder. Than it was a bit difficult to focus on anything other than the electric shock that was shooting through him all at once.

“But… But…” Cullen was staring from his hand to Dorian and back again, mouth agape. “I was so sure that the two of you were—”

“ _What_?” Dorian exclaimed. “Felix and I?”

“Now you see why I said no.” Felix bundled up all of his books as best he could, pitching them into his bag. “You can thank me later. Just…um…don’t make out in the library maybe?”

“No way!” Sera crowed. “We placed bets, Alexius!”


	135. Chapter 135

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian + telepathy. Dorian recognizes what it is as soon as he hears Cullen's voice in his head -- Cullen, not so much.

Cullen actually leapt out of his chair quick enough to have it topple to the ground when Dorian slammed a book down onto his paperwork. All of which would have been far more amusing if the man’s damn thoughts weren’t racing out of control.

“Just look at the…” Dorian pitched his head back with a groan, already feeling the ache growing at his temples again. “Oh, for Maker’s sake, Commander, I don’t  _actually_  want to…hurt you? Where in the world would you get an idea like that?”

Cullen swallowed hard. “And you know that how exactly?” His brow remained furrowed even when glancing down at the spot in the open book Dorian tapped with a finger. “Mind reading? You must be—”

“Where that I would.” Dorian spread out his hands. “The spell was meant to link that Ventori agent to our Inquisitor, not the two of us. When we interrupted the casting it seems to have… Well.”

“But I haven’t been…” Cullen slammed his mouth shut all at once, red chasing across the high arch of his cheeks. “Never mind, let’s focus on—”

“No, no,” Dorian cut in. “Are you really trying to say you’ve heard  _nothing_?”

“N—Not exactly?” Cullen sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face when Dorian stared him down. “ _Fine_. Although I don’t see why you don’t just pry it from my head.”

“It would be rude.” Dorian’s eyebrows shot up at the bitter edge to Cullen’s laugh. “It wasn’t a joke!”

“No, I realize that,” Cullen said. “But your voice managed to find a way into my head quite some time ago. It’s just that it tended to be the part of me I thought wanted to get well.”

“Wait.” Cullen wasn’t the only one blushing down as Dorian grabbed hold of the desk to steady himself. “Please don’t tell me you heard all of my ridiculous, coddling thoughts and…” He gaped when Cullen ducked his head. “ _Kaffas_ , exactly how impossible are we?”

“That depends.” Cullen straightened up, shoulders rounding out as he fixed Dorian with a far too warm look. “What am I thinking right now?”

More than enough, it turned out, to have Dorian scrambling across the desk to pull Cullen in by his ridiculous furred ruff.


	136. Chapter 136

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian + Cullen likes wearing Dorian's underwear. Dorian finds out.

Cullen came very close to reaching for the hilt of his sword when he entered his office to the sounds of things being pitched about. The realization that it was from the loft  _above_  the office instead of it stayed his hand, if only because there was a very short list of those who would venture up there.

Surely an actual assassin wouldn’t be so careless.

He sighed when he actually pulled himself up into the loft to find Dorian, of all people, tearing through his drawers. “You’ll be picking this all up, I hope,” he said.

Dorian didn’t even bother to turn around, although he certainly wasn’t above huffing in Cullen’s general direction. “Oh, please, it adds character,” he said. “Actually looks  _lived in_.”

“Uh-huh.” Cullen took a deep breath in through his nose, letting it out slowly through his mouth. As Dorian still showed no sign of stopping by the time he was done, he caught the man by the arm, ignoring any of the grumbles that came with it. “Dorian, really, what are you doing?”

Dorian dragged his teeth across his bottom lip. “ _Kaffas_ ,” he said, “fine then. It’s to do with my…underthings. Or, rather, a particular set of silky…” He trailed off, eyebrows lifting when Cullen couldn’t keep heat from rushing up into his cheeks. “And it would seem I was right to imagine you might know something. Suppose it stands to reason—I’m only taking them  _off_  for you now.”

Cullen’s answering laughter was far more strained than he would have liked. “I can…um…show you. Hopefully you won’t be too mad.”

“Mad? Why on earth would I—”

Dorian’s voice came to a sudden halt when Cullen dropped his arm to begin to work on the fastenings to his breeches. That, in of itself, would have been odd enough—but welcome—without the hint of what was peeking out between the undone laces once Cullen got them loose enough.

“Why you sly man.” Dorian chuckled at just how flushed Cullen’s face had become, reaching out to hook his finger through the laces until the his fingertip touched the familiar silken material. “Don’t worry, I’m not mad. Or, at least, I won’t be if you get to bed fast enough.”

It was a wonder neither of them tripped over all that had been discarded onto the floor, to be honest.


	137. Chapter 137

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> random mage appears and starts verbally atacking Cullen because of his actions back in Kirkwall, in front of basically everyone making Cullen feeling like absolute crap .Maybe Dorian comforts him?

Cullen should have known there was something wrong when Karl shook his head once catching his gaze. To find the Inquisitor surrounded by the latest group of mages that had pressed through Skyhold’s gates was hardly uncommon. It was, entirely understandably, somewhat inspiring for them to encounter one of their own, from a Circle no less, risen so high and commanding such respect.

What was unfamiliar, however, was to find Karl appearing so unnerved, an expression that only grew worse when Cullen drew near.

“ _You_.” The elf shook off the hands of those around him, glowering up into Cullen’s face. “Do you know what you’re responsible for?”

“I…” Cullen’s mouth went dry all at once when he caught the standard pressed to some of the mages’ clothes still. “I am trying to make up through that by—” He could have braced against the blow that came, but saw no reason to. Well, perhaps, except for Karl’s gasp (it was a mercy that the Ostwick Circle had never stamped out that sweetness).

“You templars,” the elf said. “Still only thinking of yourself. What will that do for all those made Tranquil on your watch?”

“I’m sorry.” Cullen spread out his hands when the man hissed out a curse. “It’s all I can offer. That, and to do right by those left behind. As we all should.”

“You can’t—” 

Karl’s hand clamped down on the elf’s shoulder, eyes far steelier than usual. “Perhaps not,” he said, “but  _I_ can.”

“Inquisitor, you can’t just…” The man huffed, jabbing a finger in Cullen’s direction. “You don’t know what he’s been party to.”

“And you don’t know the story behind my name.” Karl smiled grimly in the wake of the man’s confusion. “I am named for Karl Thekla—my father. Turned Tranquil by Ser Alrik. Not by the man standing before you.” He squeezed the man’s shoulder when the elf bowed his head, ignoring the gasps around him. (It wasn’t everyday a lordling owned to their own bastardy, after all.) “We can still set this to rights, but not by using the rhetoric turned on us.”

“And on that note.” Cullen startled at the hand pressed to his elbow, but Dorian only smiled serenely. He wasn’t above clucking his tongue when Cullen resisted being pulled away, however. “Come now, our glorious leader has it well in hand and you need that looked at.”

“I thought you weren’t a healer,” Cullen muttered.

Dorian rolled his shoulders up into a shrug. “I can be convinced to make an effort for those I like.”


	138. Chapter 138

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When you cry, I die. When you smile, I soar. ”

Cullen had learned by now not to disturb Dorian when the other man was reading. For the most part, it wasn’t too much of an issue either. Even as the primary work of the Inquisition wound down, there were still plenty of papers that wound up on his desk.

(Or bed, in this case.)

Still, there was only so long that he could be drawn from his own work by the sound of barely aborted chortles. Or, on one occasion, Dorian’s heels actually thumping against the mattress.

“What are you… Cullen!”

Cullen had to straddle Dorian to keep him place, squeezing tight to keep from being bucked off. Enough to keep his partner distracted for long enough to catch the cover of the book, if not the title. “Is this… Is this supposed to be  _us_?” He sighed, resisting the urge to knock the book outright off his head. “It’s one of Varric’s, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” Dorian said, “and perfectly ridiculous as expected. All the more reason to set it aside for the night.”

Cullen took in the cross of Dorian’s arms over his chest against the fast slide of his words before propping the book open, despite the mage’s renewed flailing. “‘When you cry, I die. When you smile, I soar.’“ He pressed his lips together, not entirely able to keep a smile at bay when the tips of Dorian’s ears flushed. “Ah.”

“See?” Dorian shot back. “Perfectly ridiculous. As if you would ever resort to anything so syrupy.”

Cullen tossed the book somewhere over near the paperwork on the other side of the bed, dipping down to press a kiss to the end of Dorian’s nose. “I could if you wanted me to,” he replied.

“I should dissuade you,” Dorian said, arms already looping around Cullen’s neck to keep him close, “but I was never fond of lying.”


	139. Chapter 139

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What about Dorian and Livia's marriage arrangement with Dorian loving Cullen and Livia loving Calpernia? Both working together eventually to get away with their respective lovers?

Livia Herathinos was, by all means, the epitome of the ideal bride, least by Tevinter standards. The upward curve of her lips dripped with just enough sweetness to ease the sting of her words, able to effortlessly charm Dorian’s parents into laughing more than he had seen them do in years. She graced Dorian with a very limited amount of her attention all in all, leaving him with barely enough time to take her hand to press a faux kiss to the back of it.

All it took was his parents closing the door for that lovely smile to drop, however, finely crafted shoes being sent skidding across the floor with a few well placed kicks while Livia collapsed into the nearest chair in an explosion of silken fabric.

“ _You_ ,” she snapped, jabbing a many ringed finger in his direction, “were to ensure this day never came to be.”

“I am well aware of that.” Dorian’s tone was equally as acidic, but he refused to stoop to the dramatics of draping himself across furniture, crossing his arms over his chest instead. “Or did you somehow miss all the gossip about all the scandalous places I like to stick my cock into?”

Livia’s delicate features drew together in a grimace, tongue sticking out briefly. “There is no cause to be vulgar.” A hint of her former smile returned as the slave, who was, for all appearances, meant to be serving as their chaperone, moved to place a hand on her shoulder. “And it was my hope that those stories were being exaggerated for your bodyguard’s sake.” Her eyebrows lifted, gaze turning sly. “Or was Cullen invited to _join_ in on such occasions?”

“Now who’s being vulgar.” Dorian tapped his foot on the ground for a few moments before sighing. “We could always…”

“Go through with it?” Livia bit back. “ _Never_. You were the one who said you didn’t want to hide!”

“And if there were other untapped avenues then I would agree,” Dorian said. “But there are none and to play our last hand only thrusts those most close to us into—”

“Dorian.” Livia’s tone had gone soft now, brow knitted together. “Dorian, who do they have?”

Dorian inhaled deeply, forcing his breath to eek back out slowly, but his response still came out scrapped raw. “Cullen. Father has taken him for a ritual of some sort. One intended to make me… _normal_ …for the sake of the legacy.”

“A blood ritual?” Calpernia exclaimed. “He will not get away with this!”

“No, _cor meum_.” Livia reached upwards to press a kiss to the back of the other woman’s hand, clutching to it as her expression darkened. “No, he shall not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hesitated in adding this one since it's a little more suggested slash? But it also gave me a soft spot for Livia (and I love the rare pair of her with Calpernia, sue me). 
> 
> *cor meum = my heart (in Latin, which seems a good fix for Tevene)  
> *If anyone is curious [this was how I was imaging Livia.](http://sansaregina.tumblr.com/post/176090892251/borgiapope-costumes-from-magnificent-century)


	140. Chapter 140

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A spin-off of the "Tevinter Marriage AU" in the last chapter, back when I got told I was being a tease with it and promptly decided to make it worse.
> 
> Featuring where Cullen has been and the unexpected person that gets him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: there's very slight mentions here of Cullen and Dorian opening their bed to another (male) person if that bothers you

Cullen could no longer be certain of how long he had been locked away here. There were certainly no windows to keep track with, after all. He had tried to use the arrival of each of the three of his meals as some sort of measure, yet the effort had proved too uncertain to keep a fixed hold on.

All things considered, he could have been receiving _worse_  treatment. The only times he came in contact with danger had been in the early days when he had tried to test the security of his prison and for when Halward Pavus needed to collect enough blood upon whatever scrap of cloth deemed suitable in order to ensure his son’s compliance.

As pathetic as it might sound, Cullen was grateful for the snippets of information that passed about Dorian from either the man’s father or the guards. He had sworn to protect the other man long before what he had thought had been a foolish degree of pining had proven to be returned. Which meant that he could bear the pain of hearing that plans for the wedding where pushing ahead, so long as it wasn’t followed by any hints of Dorian placing himself in harm.

He knew better than to assume that Halward would forgo the ritual. Even if Dorian were behaving himself now under threat, his father would never take the chance of another rebellion. Better to nip it in the bud before it ever had the chance to blossom.

At least Cullen could count on Livia to be kind to Dorian, although that was a very small comfort, not to mention a cold one.

He didn’t bother to look up when the cell door swung open, figuring that one of the guards had at last stopped snoring long enough to check on him. Then, after taking in the lighter quality of the footsteps, figured that Halward had to have returned again.

“Say your piece and be gone, magister,” he bit.

“I am no magister.”

Cullen lurched his head upwards, able to place the tone of the voice, but not the empty quality of it. His jaw went slack as he took in the sunburst stamped over the ocher skin. 

Rilienus had always said that he looked best in red.

“You think it your fault.” The placid smile was meant to put him at ease, Cullen knew, but that was impossible when it didn’t tug on those familiar laughter lines and the amber eyes remained deadened behind long lashes. “It was not. Magister Pavus recommended the rite to my family after the incident. I was exchanged to his service to ensure his discretion in the matter. I have more than enough siblings to serve as adequate replacements. I am not needed there like I am here.”  

“You _were_  needed,” Cullen said. “You were by us.” He wondered if he needed to explain further, if Rilienus could even remember the lazy mornings spent tangled in his and Dorian’s arms or how he had once drove Cullen mad by debating magical theory until new, inventive ways had to be imagined to quiet them both.

“Yes,” Rilienus said. “Those were the happiest days of my life. I should thank you for that.” He tipped his head to the side as Cullen winced. “It is not my intention to hurt you. I am here to help.”

“How?” Cullen asked. “You are under Magister Pavus’s command now. I understand that and I…I respect it.”

“You always did show honor,” Rilienus said. “But you are unbound.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “As is the door.”

Cullen’s heart hammered up against his chest hard enough to hurt. “Rilienus, you cannot…”

“I have no ability to stop you,” Rilienus said. “And I do want to help.”

Cullen was already scrambling to his feet, but there was something that gave him pause, causing him to reach out to clasp Rilienus on the shoulder. “Come with me.”

“I would be an unfit companion,” Rilineus returned. “It would not be to your benefit to bring something that could only hinder your escape.” He ignored Cullen’s hissed correction of, “Some _one_ ,” placing his hand over the other man’s. “Furthermore, Magister Pavus only needs a single offering for the ritual.”

Cullen sucked in a sharp breath, turning his hand over to clutch Rilineus’ and pull it to his mouth to press a firm kiss to the back of it. “I will rescue you before that can happen,” he said. “ _We’ll_  rescue you.”

The smile was small, Rilineus’s eyes locked to their interwoven hands rather than to Cullen’s face. “That is kind of you to say.”


End file.
